


Reckless Paradise

by canadiandutchiefangirl



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Activism, Auradon Prep (Disney), Belonging, Betrayal, Canonical Child Abuse, F/M, Gangs, Happy Ending, Identity, Illness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isle of the Lost (Disney), Isle of the Lost (Disney) is a Terrible Place, Non-Graphic Violence, Politics, Pre-Canon, Pre-Descendants (2015), Protests, Swordfighting, United States of Auradon (Disney), United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect, VK raised in Auradon, combat training with sexual tension, did the current pandemic have any effect on this story? maybe, like i said: current world events had no influence over where this story went
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 57,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadiandutchiefangirl/pseuds/canadiandutchiefangirl
Summary: Quinn Little, raised in Auradon by Little John, finds out that her heritage is not what she thought it was. When Little John tells her that her real father was a villain, she must go on a journey of self-discovery that will bring her to all the forbidden places in the United States of Auradon.Pre-canon & canon-compliant to the first film.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Child of Captain Hook
Kudos: 16





	1. One | Auradon Prep

_Would all the bad and evil vanish_

_If evil-doers were all banished?_

_Or is there evil in us all?_

_Is it our own choice to fall?_

_But if they are set up to fail_

_How dare we tell them to prevail_

_For if beggars cannot choose_

_Can we blame them when they lose?_

“What is she wearing?”

The whispers slid around the halls and Quinn was going to ignore them until she saw the subject of the buzz.

A young girl walked down the hallway; it was probably her first day here. From her clothing and appearance, Quinn guessed that she was from the Northern Wei, Mulan and Shang’s home.

But the reason why everyone was staring at her _was_ her clothing. Instead of a dress or a skirt, like everybody else, she had the audacity to wear pants.

She fiddled with the strap on her backpack but held her head up high as she walked down the hall. As she passed by Quinn, she saw that her eyes darted around at all the people watching her.

Poor kid.

Quinn stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Quinn.”

She looked up at her nervously. “Lonnie,” she said quietly, shaking her hand.

“I like your pants.”

Her eyes scanned her face, probably trying to guess whether she was being sincere. Then she noticed Quinn’s outfit. She wore a light green tunic with beige leggings underneath. It was not quite pants, but it wasn’t exactly a dress either.

“Thank you.” She looked around at the other students again, apprehensively.

“Don’t listen to them,” Quinn said. “You look nice.”

The ghost of a smile passed over her face. As she walked onwards, Quinn saw her pay less attention to the other students.

•••

“Would Fa-Li Lonnie please report to the office?”

Quinn looked up from her book as she sat in the corner of the courtyard, hoping she had not gotten in trouble on her first day.

A few minutes later, the intercom went again. “Could Quinn Little please report to the office?”

Frowning, Quinn wondered what it could be about.

In the office, Fairy Godmother was waiting. She led Quinn into her office. Quinn sat down beside Lonnie, who held her hands in her lap, feet dangling off the chair. Fairy Godmother sat behind the desk.

“Fairy Godmother,” Quinn said. “What is this about?”

“The dress code.”

Quinn closed her eyes for a moment, stifling a sigh. She and her friends had had problems with the dress code before and had made their own loopholes. But they had been a group, all kids from Sherwood, whereas Lonnie, looking understandably nervous in the chair beside her, was alone. Quinn felt a surge of anger and protectiveness.

“What about the dress code?” she asked, looking back at Fairy Godmother.

She blinked. “I believe that Miss Lonnie’s outfit is inappropriate and she mentioned that you said that it was alright.” She looked Quinn directly in the eye. “Do you have authority over the dress code?”

“No, I do not,” Quinn said. “But I was also not aware that there was any rule against wearing pants in the dress code.”

“The dress code states that all students should dress in a good and proper manner.”

“That is rather vague,” Quinn said. “Why do pants qualify as proper clothing for the boys but not for girls?”

Fairy Godmother sighed in an infuriatingly condescending manner. “Miss Little, I realize that your upbringing in the Sherwood Village has caused you to have slightly different standards than the rest of us–”

“Excuse me?” Quinn asked. “Are you suggesting that perhaps the residents of Sherwood Village are not as good as those born of royalty?”

She smiled slightly. “Of course not, dear, I was simply hoping that perhaps you could not force your standards upon others of different upbringings.”

Quinn pursed her lips and glanced over at Lonnie. If she learned to fit in now, then she would be fine for the rest of her life. Why should she encourage her to live like her: not quite fitting in with the Royals. It was alright for Quinn, but Lonnie was kind of a royal herself.

Did she wish that fate upon her?

Sighing, Quinn turned to the little girl. “Fairy Godmother is right, Lonnie. It’s best if you wear the proper clothes.” she felt her stomach twist tighter with every word.

Lonnie's eyebrows scrunched together and she tilted her head to the side. “But what you said before–”

“I was wrong.” Quinn pasted a smile on her face. “Fitting in is what you want. You’ll be able to make friends easier.”

“You may go, Lonnie,” said Fairy Godmother. When she had left, Fairy Godmother turned to Quinn. “Thank you, Miss Little. It’s for her good and the good of all of us.”

Quinn shook her head. “I only did it for her, not the rest of you.” She stood up. “The dress code is ridiculous.

_Dear Mr. Little,_

_I regret to inform you that your daughter, Quinn Little, has been given a week’s worth of detention due to some worrying behaviour. I request that you come in to speak with me regarding the matter at your earliest convenience._

_In goodness,_

_Headmistress Fairy Godmother_

Quinn sat on the bench outside the Fairy Godmother’s office, slouching in a way that she hoped made I look like she did not care, while she hid her embarrassment. As students passed by, they glanced at her then turned to whisper to their friends.

Hardly anybody ever got detention.

The bell was about to ring, so students scurried quickly down the hallways until they were empty and silent. Tapping her feet on the stone floor and fiddling with her coarse coiled hair, Quinn tried to rid herself of nervousness.

Finally, she heard footsteps approaching and looked over to see the Fairy Godmother accompanied by a very tall man with dark hair, greying at the temples. Quinn smiled a little at the sight of her dad, although he did look slightly concerned.

“If you would wait out here a little longer, Miss Quinn,” she said. “I need to have a few private words with your father.”

Quinn nodded, staring blankly at the golden buttons on Fairy Godmother’s sky-blue jacket. As they passed by into the office, Dad put a hand on her shoulder and Quinn looked up to find him smiling sympathetically.

The door closed behind them and for a moment, she stayed where she was, resisting the urge to eavesdrop.

Quickly, Quinn looked up and down the hallway and knelt beside the door, pressing her ear to it.

“...all about?” said Dad. “I appreciate the hospitality, but I would like to know what Quinn’s worrying behaviour has been.” There was a clink like the sound of a teacup being set down.

Fairy Godmother cleared her throat delicately. “Of course, Mr. Little –”

“Please, call me John, or Little John, if you’d prefer.”

“We are concerned that Miss Quinn may not agree to the values that uphold our nation.”

“That is a serious accusation.” Quinn could tell by the incredulity in his voice that Dad’s eyebrows had just climbed up his forehead.

“I realize it is a shock,” Fairy Godmother said, misinterpreting his disbelief. “But we have been suspecting this for a while now.”

“And you did not inform me of this?”

“We did not want to unnecessarily worry you.”

“Very well,” Dad said, sighing. “What actions of hers have led you to think this because I have not noticed anything that would give me cause to be concerned.”

“Most recently, there was her encouragement of a younger student to dress inappropriately for someone of her station. Then there is her attempted taming of animals such as snakes and ravens, both of which are strongly associated with villains. And of course, her flagrant disregard of dress code. I realize that things are different in Sherwood, but we _do_ have standards. I hope you understand, Mr. Little.”

There was silence inside the office.

“And this is why you think she disagrees with our nation’s values?” Dad asked quietly. A smile pulled at the edge of my mouth. From his tone of voice, he was on my side.

“Yes.”

“My daughter sees the beauty in animals that others fear and the good in a thunderstorm. I see no trouble in that. As for the dress code, I stand by my daughter wearing what she likes. Things _are_ different in Sherwood, and I do not see why she should dress differently here.”

Another moment of silence passed awkwardly. “Are there any other concerns I should be aware of, Fairy Godmother?”

“Um, well,” Fairy Godmother said, and there was the sound of shuffling papers.

“She has not harmed any fellow students or broken any school rules?”

“Not technically,” she said, sounding flustered. “But… she criticized our king.”

“And is that against the law now, Fairy Godmother?” Quinn could hear Dad’s voice getting tense.

“Well, no…” her voice trailed off.

“If we are finished here, I would like to speak with my daughter privately, perhaps outside?”

Quinn heard the scraping of a chair against the floor and quickly got up and sat on the bench again, just before the door opened. Dad came out, closely followed by Fairy Godmother. The irritation in his face softened slightly when he looked at her.

“Your father would like to speak with you alone, Miss Little, so perhaps you could show him the gardens?” she said, smiling.

Quinn nodded.

“And remember that you have detention with me in the library after school,” she continued, her usual perkiness returning. “Don’t be late!”

Nodding again, Quinn got up and started down the hallway, Dad following close behind. Once they were out of earshot, he said quietly, “Sorry I couldn’t get you outta detention, kiddo.”

She shrugged. “I usually hang out in the library after school anyway.”

•••

“So, was she telling the truth?” Dad asked.

They were walking through the forest beyond the school sports field. Quinn saw how Dad lightened up once they got under the trees. He did not belong in castles like the other heroes. Neither did she, really.

“I don’t know, what did she say?” Quinn asked.

Dad looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“How did you know?”

He looked pointedly at the smudge of dust and dirt on her left knee. “That wasn’t there before. And I know you prefer your left ear.”

Quinn smiled. “Sorry for eavesdropping?”

“Is it true?”

“Yes, it’s true, but I don’t see why it should be a problem. I happen to disagree with some silly rules, can’t I have a civilized debate about it? When the other Sherwood kids were here, we talked about that stuff all the time.”

“If you start going too far against the silly rules and traditions, they’ll start to think you harbour villain sympathies.”

“I know,” Quinn said, kicking a stone and watching it skitter ahead of her. “And maybe I do.” She saw Dad’s concerned look. “a bit. I just don’t think VKs should be punished for their parents’ crimes. They never did anything against us.” She paused. “Don’t worry, I don’t talk about that.”

Dad frowned. “But from the reports, many are already delinquents, pickpockets running little gangs and roaming the streets causing trouble.”

“That’s because they’re set up to fail. We leave them to be raised by their parents with their only contacts being villains, growing up despising us because we left them there to rot!”

He sighed. “You may have a point, but if you start talking like that, you’ll start to make people nervous.”

“Come on, Dad,” Quinn stopped and turned to him, grabbing his hand. “You agree with me and I don’t care what people think.”

“You don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“You always taught me to stand up for what is right, like what you did, with Robin Hood and Will Scarlet!”

“King Adam is hardly Prince John, Quinn.”

“Yeah, I know, but still.”

Dad sighed and drew a hand through his hair. “Do you think you can come home this weekend? Then we can go over this a little more privately.”

Quinn turned back and saw the tourney team getting ready for practice on the field. Looking back at Dad, she smiled. “Sure, it’ll be nice to go home for a bit.”

“If Fairy Godmother gives you any trouble, just tell me. I’ll think of some excuse.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Quinn said. “For understanding.”

“No problem.”

She started to head back to school, but the quickly went back to hug Dad. It was nice to have someone on her side at this school again.

•••

The period was not quite over, but Quinn did not particularly want to go to Grammar and Proper Communication, so she wandered the hallways. Since the last of her friends from Sherwood had graduated last year, so she did not have anyone to hang out with. She found it difficult to relate to the kids who had been raised in castles by princes and princesses when her home was all trees and former vigilantes. They were two different worlds.

So Quinn headed for the archery range, one of the only places in Auradon City that reminded her of home. It was usually empty and working on her marksmanship often helped her clear her head. She passed by her locker to grab her bow and was happy to find the range utterly deserted.

After turning on the lights and setting up the targets, Quinn began to shoot arrow after arrow. She changed positions as she did so, simulating an actual fight like how Dad had taught her. She was pretty good – not Robin Hood good of course – but good.

“You’ve gotten better,” said a voice behind her suddenly and Quinn spun around, face breaking into a smile when she saw her best friend.

“Mark!” she exclaimed, putting down her bow and arrow and running to give him a hug.

“Hey, Quinn!” he said. “In trouble, are we?” Mark was Robin Hood’s son, and so he and Quinn had basically been raised together, practically family. He had graduated last year.

Quinn frowned. “My dad met you on his way out?”

He shook his head. “You’re just shooting arrows very intensely when you should be in class. I’m not stupid.” He sat down on a bench and looked at her expectantly.

“It’s nothing,” Quinn said. “Just all these princes and princesses around me.” She smiled. “I miss the Sherwood group. At least we all made some sense.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “What did you do?”

She sighed and sat down beside him. “I just told a girl that pants are fine, and apparently they don’t like my various attempts at taming ‘evil animals.’” She sighed. “And then I told Dad I think the children of villains didn’t deserve to be on the Isle and he told me to keep that on the down-low.”

“Well…” he said cautiously.

“Oh, come on, Mark,” Quinn said, irritated. “Not you too.”

“You don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

“That’s exactly what my dad said!”

“Maybe he has a point.”

Quinn sighed again. “Why are you back anyway?”

“Coach Jenkins wanted help with archery.”

Nodding, Quinn glanced at the clock on the wall. “You know, I still have a few minutes.” She grinned at him. “Best out of five for old time’s sake?”

Mark’s grin reflected hers. “Oh, you’re on!”


	2. Two | Sherwood

The week passed fairly quickly with Mark there. Quinn could take all the things that usually drove her nuts, including the books on the cruelty of villains and heroics of the heroes that Fairy Godmother not-so-subtly had her read because she could talk to him about it all. He understood her just like all the Sherwood kids did.

He told her of his adventures travelling through the lands behind the Great Wall and before Quinn knew it, it was Friday and she was waiting for the bus that would take her to Sherwood Forest. Quinn had done this trip so many times that she went on autopilot as she mulled over the Isle of the Lost again.

It seemed like a good idea at first, to have all the villains in one place, with no magic and no escape. But now most of them had kids, who had done nothing to be in such a terrible place. Surely, others must see the unfairness of their situation too.

Soon the train pulled into Locksley Station and Quinn saw Dad standing on the platform, towering over everyone else. She smiled and pulled out her earbuds before stepping off the train.

“How was the trip?” he asked.

Quinn hugged him. “It was good.”

“I brought Onyx for you,” he said as they approached the stable section of the parking lot.

“Onyx!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to stroke her velvety nose. “Hey, girl.”

Riding back, Quinn felt her chest get lighter as they got closer to the forest. While Mark had helped back at school, nothing was like coming home.

“How was your week?” asked Dad.

“It was alright,” Quinn said. “Did you know that Mark is back to help with archery at school?”

“I thought I’d heard Robin say something about that. How’s he doing?”

“Good. He really helped me handle everything this week.”

They were silent for a little while, as they entered the forest. Quinn breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the earthy air.

Soon they reached the village, a cluster of houses built up in the trees, with ladders to go up and bridges between them, around a well and a large fire pit. While they did have electricity and internet and everything, the village still looked very much like it used to.

•••

After supper that night, Dad and Quinn sat on the back porch of the house.

“Is this the time when you tell me to try not to sound like a traitor at school?” Quinn asked after they had sat there in silence for a while.

She heard Dad take a deep breath and he stared up at the stars that peeked between the leaves. “You know I love you, right?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, I do, Dad,” Quinn said, realizing that this was serious. “And I love you, too.” Thinking she knew where this was going, Quinn sat forward in anticipation. She had always known this was coming; he was going to tell her about her mother, she was sure of it.

“Quinn... you’re… oh, how do I say this? You’re adopted.”

She blinked. This was not at all what she had been expecting. “What?”

“I love you like a daughter, Quinn, and I’ve raised you for most of your life, but.”

It was hard to fully understand what was happening. “So, who is my biological father? Was he one of the Merry Men?”

Dad shook his head. “His name was Starkey. I don’t know what his first name was. He was first mate to Captain Hook.”

Starkey. Captain Hook. “He was a villain?” Quinn’s eyes were wide as she stared at Dad. She did not know what to do with this new information. “ _Was_?”

“He died in the final battle,” he said, and Quinn breathed in a slow breath. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he continued.

Quinn stared at Dad and then out at the village. In the clearing, there were some kids, running around the fire, as she used to when she was younger. All those years, not quite fitting in with people at school, her only friends being those from around here, raised slightly more in the morally grey area. She did not belong here, and that was why she never felt like she did. She was a Villain Kid, not a Hero Kid. She belonged on the Isle, with people like her, not here, pretending to fit in with royalty.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, standing up abruptly.

“Quinn,” Dad said, getting up as well. “I know this is hard –”

“No, you don’t, Dad!” Quinn shouted, surprising herself with her anger. “You belong here. You’re a hero. I’ve never felt like I belonged, and now I know why!” She turned and headed into the forest.

“Quinn!” Dad called after her.

“I need some time alone!” Quinn ran deeper into the darkness of the trees. She knew the forest well, and the darkness did not frighten her. She ran and ran, using the faint light of the moon and stars to guide her.

Villain. Villain. Villain. The word echoed through her mind with every footfall.

Maybe a villain kid could live in Auradon. After all, she had made it this far. No one else knew, otherwise she would have never heard the end of it. As long as no one found out, she could go on pretending until she had fully figured this out.

Dad would get worried if she did not come home soon, and even though she did not want to talk about it, Quinn decided to head back.

“Quinn!” Dad exclaimed when she walked through the door. He was sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of him. “I was beginning to think you were going to spend the night in the forest.”

She shook her head. “I just needed to clear my head.”

“And is it cleared?”

“A bit.”

“Do you have questions?”

“No, I’m good for now.” She started for the loft, then turned back. “Hey, Dad, can we hang out in the forest tomorrow?”

His expression brightened. “Of course, we can.”

Quinn smiled. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, Quinn.”

•••

The rest of the weekend went without a single mention of Quinn’s true heritage. On Saturday, she and Dad spent the day in the forest, climbing and moving unseen through the trees. Quinn was better at it than her dad now sometimes, although her experience was still lacking compared to him. On Sunday, Mark was back, so they spent the morning with his family.

After lunch, Mark and Quinn went out to shoot while Dad, Robin and Marian chatted. After a little while, Mark turned to her. “Alright, what’s up?”

She drew her bowstring. “What do you mean?”

“Something’s different.”

Loosing her arrow, she watched as it lodged in the target, close to the bull’s eye. “Not that I know of.”

“You may have gotten better at lying,” said Mark, stepping up to take a shot. “but I can still tell.”

Quinn looked at him. “I’ve gotten better at lying?”

He smiled at her worried expression. “Don’t change the subject.” Mark loosed his arrow and got a perfect bull’s eye. He grinned.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn stepped up again. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not here.” After loosing her arrow, she looked him right in the eye to make sure he knew she was serious. He nodded and did not mention it again.

After supper, Dad, Mark, and Quinn rode down to Locksley so she and Mark could catch the train to Auradon Prep. Dad hugged her longer than usual at the platform, but she did not mind. She needed it.

•••

The school week started again and Quinn told herself that she was not going to think about it. And yet, she found herself in the library researching him and paying extra attention whenever there was a mention of the Isle and its inhabitants.

It got worse as the week went on, Quinn started finding herself wanting to defend the inhabitants of the Isle whenever they were brought up. For if she was not born inherently evil – hopefully – how did they know the VKs were?

Even worse than her odd behaviour was her lack of findings in the library. There were hardly any mentions of Starkey anywhere. In Peter Pan’s biography, he was referred to as ‘Gentleman Starkey’ and the only thing said about him was that because he had once been an usher in a public school, he was still dainty in his ways of killing. It wasn’t exactly a comforting thing to hear about one’s biological father.

Quinn had always been good at pretending. She had to be, otherwise she probably would have been expelled long ago.

But now things were getting too much. Never before had she realized how black and white everything was to everyone. It had never bothered her this much before.

In Biology, when learning about genetics, it was suggested by a student that perhaps evilness and goodness could be passed on. The teacher merely said that it was unknown if it was a heritable trait. History painted the heroes as perfect people in flowing capes and immaculate hair. And for the first time, she began to question the narrative. Was everybody as perfect as they were in the history books? If they were wrong about inherent evilness, what else were they wrong about?

No one had yet mentioned Captain Hook or his men. Not until Chivalry on Friday morning.

Chivalry was known as an easy class. Everyone knew how to be polite and this class was just an extension of that.

“Today, we are going to talk about how chivalry and politeness can be used by those with malevolent intentions,” said Miss Dwerven. “Charm is a tool that villains often use to deceive.”

Quinn sighed and rested her head on her arms. This was the one class where she hoped there would be minimal mentions of villains.

“And no villain was as talented in deceptive politeness and charm than Captain Hook.”

Her head snapped up again and she saw Captain Hook’s mug shot on the smartboard. She had seen pictures of him before of course, but it was different now. This was a man who knew her father, who trusted him to be his first mate.

“…politeness hid a nefarious motive,” Miss Dwerven continued. “and it was not only the captain of this evil crew that used this tactic. His first mate, Mr. Starkey, is often characterized by his gentlemanly behaviour, even when committing evil acts.”

No mug shot appeared on the screen, just a grainy photo of captain Hook’s entire crew. Quinn squinted, trying to pick him out. Although she knew it was ridiculous, she felt like she would recognize him right away, even though she had no idea what he looked like. Before she could stop herself, she raised her hand.

“Miss Little?”

“Do we know anything else about this Mr. Starkey?”

“And why would you want to know that? The moral to be learned from men like him is that becoming a villain always ends badly.”

“I just thought that maybe there was something in his past that drove him on that path.”

“That is preposterous, Miss Little, some people are just born evil.”

There it was again, the idea of inherent evilness. “But if their villainy is innate, then how can we blame them for it?”

Miss Dwerven blinked. “I do not see the point behind these questions, Miss Little.”

“I was just thinking that if their villainy is a choice, then something must have driven them to make that choice. And learning about these circumstances could help in understanding them, or helping others to not take the same path.”

“There is no way for us to understand villains, as heroes.”

“But what is the truth? Are the villains born evil, or do they make their wrong choice?”

Whispers rippled over the class. The other students were staring, but Quinn did not care. For once, she wanted the truth. Miss Dwerven was still searching for an answer, so she continued.

“Because if it is a choice, then our focus should be on the children of the villains. They also have a choice, and on the Isle, they are only presented with one of the options.”

“Miss Little, I am surprised at you. What is this fascination you have with the villains’ children?”

There were a lot of whispers now.

“It is not a fascination, Miss Dwerven,” Quinn said, an edge of irritation in her voice. “I just want to know what I am supposed to believe. I want to know what our king’s position is on this subject since that is what we are to think.” She could not help the sarcasm that crept into her tone.

Miss Dwerven was visibly shocked. “Are you questioning our leader, Miss Little?”

“No, I am not,” she said. “But even if I was, are we, as citizens, not allowed to question and criticize our leaders?”

“King Adam has made this entire kingdom what it is today.”

“A place where one is not to question their leaders’ decisions,” Quinn snapped back. “Are we under an authoritarian leader now, Miss Dwerven? Because I think that Robin and his Merry Men would be interested to know that.” As soon as she finished that sentence, she realized that she had gone too far. She had gotten extremely close to suggesting a rebellion. Not knowing what else to do, she got up, grabbed her bag and walked out the door, ignoring the teacher’s protests behind her.

Once again, Quinn found herself in the archery range.

She shot arrow after arrow into the targets, trying very hard to clear her head, when all it did was spin further. It had always been implied that villains were just evil, with no interest in why they did what they did. They were just evil. But she had never thought about how that somehow extended to their children.

And the nagging implication about what that meant for her.

Arrows whizzed through the air, each thud as they stuck in the target like a nail in her coffin. If they were right, then was she guaranteed to turn out badly? Was that why she never quite fit in in Auradon Prep? And perhaps, it was also why she liked Sherwood so much because the Merry Men used to technically be criminals as well.

She managed to split an arrow, an act that would normally have warranted a celebration, but now the sound just felt like a sign of sudden realization.

“I don’t belong here,” she whispered, sitting down on the bench. With the words out in the open like that, she felt a strange sense of relief, followed by utter panic as she stared straight ahead, the beginnings of tears prickling in her eyes.

“Quinn?” said a voice from behind her.

Quinn jumped and turned to see Mark standing by the door. She quickly tried to wipe any traces of tears from her face, but from his concerned expression, it was too late for that.

“Quinn, what’s wrong?” he asked, rushing forward.

So, she told him everything. Of course, she did; he was her best friend, and who else could she possibly talk to about this?

Mark was speechless for a few moments and Quinn could tell that he was trying to think of something supportive to say.

“Mm-hmm,” he said, staring blankly at a point slightly above her head. “So. what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to the Isle of the Lost,” she blurted out.

“You’re what?”

Something inside of her had snapped without her realizing it. The decision had been there in her mind the entire time. “I am going to the Isle of the Lost because that’s where I belong.”

“How do you know that you’ll belong there?”

“If I don’t belong here, then it makes sense that I’ll belong there.”

“Does your dad know about this plan?”

“No, of course not. He would never let me.” She paused. “And also, I literally just decided.”

He shook his head, a small smile slipping onto his face. “This is a terrible idea.”

Quinn knew that look. “So, you’re gonna help me?” she asked, surprised.

Sighing, he stood up. “If I don’t, you will get caught and get in even more trouble.” He headed towards the door. “Well, let’s go, we have a lot to do before you leave.”


	3. Three | The Underground

Walking down the streets of Auradon Central, Quinn asked Mark, “Alright, seriously, where are we going?”

“Just a little place where you can get the stuff you need over there,” said Mark.

“Right.”

“So, how were you planning on getting there?”

“Uh...” Quinn had not yet thought about that. The only way to get onto the Isle was a bridge that was only accessible through a Crown-sanctioned vehicle. They were well-guarded and hardly ever went to the Isle. There was no other way to get to the Isle, except for. “By boat,” she said, suddenly. “Shipments go to the Isle periodically, with food and other supplies. I’ll stow away on one of them.”

They turned into an alleyway that was so small that it was easily overlooked. It was much different than the street they had just been on; it was dark and quite dirty, a severe contrast to the clean, white cobblestones they had just been walking on.

It seemed to end at a dead end, but Mark pushed on the back wall, which turned out to be a door. Behind this door, there was a dark staircase followed by a passageway and Mark took out his phone to light the way. The temperature plummeted as soon as he closed the door. As hey walked, their footsteps echoing ahead of them, Quinn could hear scurrying and dripping sounds.

“Mark,” she whispered, staying close to him. “Where are we going?”

The part of his face that she could see in the dim light of his phone light was cautious. “You’ll see.”

Soon they reached the end of the tunnel and went up another flight of steps. Mark pushed on a battered wooden door and it opened onto an alleyway that looked a lot like the one they had come from. As Mark closed the door behind them, Quinn walked ahead to where the alley met the main street.

Quinn looked around in wonder. Auradon had always been colourful, but now she saw how limited its palette was. Instead of only the brightest or most pastel colours, the buildings and clothing here used deeper shades in addition to those of the rest of Auradon. There were much more uses of black, as well as the purples and greens most associated with villains. Some of the people walking past had grey armbands.

“What do those bands mean?” Quinn asked quietly as they walked down the cobbled street.

“Those are members of the Underground Council,” Mark said, and Quinn looked over to see him putting one around his arm. She looked at him in surprise.

“What?” he asked with a grin. “You didn’t think you were the only rebellious one, did you?”

Quinn tried not to stare at the outfits of those they passed. Some of the women wore pants here, and some of the men wore dresses and skirts. There were fabrics no other hero would wear: leather and denim, which was sometimes ripped and frayed. Some had colourfully dyed hair, or multiple piercings or tattoos.

Quinn could almost hear what Fairy Godmother, or her other teachers, might say, but she pushed them aside, instead finding the beauty in everything she saw. There was so much more variety here!

“Here we are,” Mark said stopping in front of a shop called _The Princess’ Wardrobe_.

Quinn raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“The name is tongue-in-cheek,” he said with a smile. “I promise.”

They stepped inside, the bell over the door tinkling as they did so. As Quinn looked around, she knew that Mark was right. This was definitely not your typical Auradonian clothing store. There were combat boots and ripped denim and studs and leather, so much leather. She smiled widely; from what she had seen of news broadcasts about the Isle, this would be the perfect place to find something to wear to fit in.

“Mark!” exclaimed the woman behind the counter. She was wearing a black dress with ripped tights and combat boots. Her hair was short and a shocking shade of neon green. If the Fairy Godmother saw her, Quinn was pretty sure she would faint.

“Hey, Chloe!” said Mark, kissing her lightly on each cheek before turning to Quinn. “This is Quinn.” He turned back to her with a slight grin on his face. “And she’s hoping for a change in style.”

The corner of her deep plum lips pulled up in a grin. “That is one of my favourite things to hear. What kind of change?” Her eyes sparkled in interest.

“I was hoping for a kind of Isle-lite?” Quinn said cautiously. “Like not fully leather, but like.”

“Denim?” Chloe supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do, shall we?”

Mark gave Quinn a knowing smile as Chloe began to hunt around the racks of clothing. For the next half hour, Quinn tried on outfits – all of which seemed fine to her but did not quite satisfy Chloe. She was like a barely contained ball of chaos, flitting around the store. Mark watched it all with an amused look on his face, having seen Chloe work her magic many times before.

Finally, when Quinn exited the change room, Chloe stood back, standing still for the first time. She smiled. “Perfect. It’s confident, a little delinquent, but in a ‘steal from the rich, give to the poor’ kinda way.” She winked. “Cute, but a little dangerous, and practical for movement.”

Quinn could not help but smile at the description, because it was exactly what she had been hoping for. Black skinny jeans, forest green tank top under a fishnet top and dark denim jacket, paired with black leather boots and green leather fingerless gloves. She liked how the green still nodded to Sherwood; Chloe knew what she was doing.

“And if you wanna make it a little sexy,” Chloe said. “You wear the fishnet top over a bra.” She lowered her voice with a grin. “but make sure Mark’s not around because he’ll go all older-brother on you.”

Quinn laughed, especially when she saw the look of disapproval that came over Mark’s features. When she looked in the mirror, she could see herself belonging on the Isle. She raised her chin and clenched her fists at her sides, and the glint that came into her eyes made her shiver a little. She would fit in just fine.

•••

“So, what exactly is this place?” Quinn and Mark were sitting in café, looking out at the people passing by.

“You mean, why is it a thing?” Mark asked.

Quinn nodded. “I mean, I love it, but how did it start?”

“I’m not exactly sure how, but it came to be because there are actually a lot of people who don’t agree with how Auradon is run and all the performative goodness that goes on.”

“Like all the stuff we Sherwood kids would talk about at school,” Quinn said with a slightly wistful smile.

“Yeah, there are actually a lot of Sherwood kids that either live here or are involved here. The Underground Council, or UC, will run campaigns sometimes. Remember when the sidekicks got a council in government a couple of years back?”

Quinn nodded.

“The UC helped with the campaign that made that happen.”

“I’m assuming they’re also not huge fans of King Beast.”

“No,” Mark said with a laugh. “I doubt you’ll find a single pro-King Beast person here.”

“Well, then I guess I fit right in,” Quinn looked out past the buildings to the mountains on the horizon. “And we’re not really underground either, where is this?”

“It’s right on the outskirts of Auradon City but surrounded by mountains and thick forest. There are very few ways to get in.”

“How have I never heard of it?”

“Well, a lot of people know we exist – maybe not where exactly – because of the campaigns and whatnot, but they tend to pretend we don’t. We stay out of sight and they don’t mind us.”

“But why stay out of sight?”

“In the beginning, it was more like a haven for likeminded people, where they could speak their minds. For now, we can make the most change this way, but there is hope that we can slowly open up and maybe change people’s minds with our integration.”

The clothes still felt weird, a little bit more snug than Quinn was used to. But she loved the confidence they gave her.

She and Mark sat on their horses in the patch of trees at the edge of the shipyard. In the patches of light that the floodlights cast on the dark area, they could see workers loading crates onto the ship. They were silent for a bit.

“You know that once you’re on the ship, I won’t be able to contact you,” said Mark finally.

“I know,” Quinn said, still watching the loading of the ship.

“And you know that coming back will be a lot harder, if not impossible.”

“I know.” She knew he was looking at her. She could tell he didn’t want her to go. After all his helping and planning, he didn’t want to let her. Maybe he never thought she would go through with it. Maybe he thought meeting the Undergrounders would satisfy her need to belong.

But Quinn knew she had to go. She would regret it if she didn’t. She would always wonder what her life would have been like over there.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn slipped off of Onyx’s back. Mark followed suit as Quinn slung her backpack over her shoulder. They crept towards the ship, staying out of the light and out of the sight of the workers. While learning how to move stealthily through the forest had been one of the things both their fathers had taught them, this was a bit different. There was no moss or sticks or animals, just concrete and piles of crates and bags.

Eventually, they made it near the ship and, hiding behind a pile of crates marked BREAD, Quinn turned to Mark. “I’ve got it from here,” she whispered.

He looked over at her, concern in his eyes and opened his mouth to say something.

Quinn held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not backing out now, so don’t try to convince me.”

A small grin spread across his face as he shook his head. “I just wanted to wish you good luck.” He straightened her backpack strap. “Be careful and don’t let them know where you’re from.”

She smiled. “I promise.”

“Good.” He gave her a big hug and then quickly slipped away into the darkness.

While the shipments to the Isle were not exactly secret, there was not a lot of public information. The main shipment was food since the Isle was one big city with no farmland. From a vantage point down the shoreline, they had mapped out the schedule. However, the actual boarding of the ship would have to be improvised because they couldn’t risk going to the shipping yard twice.

Fortunately, there was basically no security on this side. After all, who would want to leave Auradon?

Quinn watched from the shadows as the workers grabbed sacks and crates and walked up the various gangplanks. Fortunately, she had had the foresight to pull a pair of wide pants and a formless shirt over her outfit, to better match the dock workers. From her pocket, she grabbed a rather large cap that would hopefully obscure her face enough to not arouse suspicion.

After trying to tuck as much of her hair into it as she could manage, Quinn scurried over to a pile of smaller sacks. She quickly shouldered one and followed the line of men tramping up the nearest gangplank. She kept her head down as she walked. The sack was fairly heavy but those around her didn’t seem to be having any trouble, so she pretended she was fine as well.

They tramped down to the hold and Quinn saw the men ahead of her deposit their loads in a pile near stacks of crates. After tossing her sack onto the pile as well, Quinn pretended to stumble and – as she did so – tossed a pencil towards a pile of crates across the hold.

Sighing, she scampered after it. Once she was out of sight of the other men, she scooped up the pencil and slipped between some crates. Certain that no one could see her, she carefully sat down and leaned against the crate behind her.

Quinn listened to the scuffling in the hold for about half an hour. When the hold became quiet, she heard the hum of machinery grow louder. She felt a tug in her stomach as they began to move and her heart began to race.

A smile spread across her face as she slipped out of her hiding place. The hold was pitch-black and Quinn – stumbling with the rolls of the waves – felt her way to the stairs. She tiptoed up the steps to the main deck, holding tight to the railing.

It was a perfect night, near a new moon, so the only natural light on deck came from the stars. Some yellow light spilled out of the bridge at the back of the ship, but for the rest, it was quite dark. From what Mark and Quinn could tell, very few Auradonian workers stayed on the ship for the journey, if any.

Trying to keep out of sight of the bridge, Quinn made her way to the front of the ship. The wind was strong and blew her hair and made her clothing flap around her body.

She had always loved wind – it fascinated her. She loved how it would howl around the school during heavy storms. Sometimes, on windy days back in Sherwood, she would stick her head above the trees and let it blow through her hair.

But this was so much different. This cold wind was combined with the faint spray of water and the salty smell in the air. While the smell of the forest was safe, this smell held danger and adventure. It was intoxicating.

Was this what had drawn her father to seafaring? Did he love the wind out at sea as well? Perhaps on the Isle, she could learn more about who he was.

In the distance, Quinn could see the island. There were far fewer lights than in Auradon. There was an odd trick of the light too, making it look like there was a giant bubble around the island.

That must be the magical barrier, she thought.

As they approached the barrier, it shuddered and an opening just large enough for the ship to pass through appeared. Quinn held her breath as they slid through. She was now on the side of the villains. Her heart began to race with excitement.

The docks weren’t too far ahead and Quinn knew she had to think of a plan before she was seen. She had noticed ladder rungs along the side of the ship and – taking a breath – clambered over the side and down almost to the water. Even though the ship was slowing down, waves still crashed against the hull and soon she was soaking wet.

Quinn could now make out the docks. They were old-fashioned looking, worn rough wood on supporting stilts above the rocky shoreline. Figures stood on it with what looked like kerosene lamps.

When the ship was almost stopped at the docks, she slipped into the water, quickly paddling her way under the rough slats of wood. She had never been the best swimmer but managed to get to one of the support posts and hold onto it for a moment of rest.

Quinn heard boots stamping overhead as the ship was unloaded. She decided to get away from the docks during the commotion as there would be less likelihood of being seen.

Bracing herself, she let go of the post and began paddling towards the shore. Her arms and legs were beginning to feel heavy, but she kept going. She was so close.

Finally, panting and shivering, she crawled up the jagged rocks of the shore, avoiding the particularly sharp ones. It was dark underneath the dock with only some light filtering through from above.

She heard the shifting of stones ahead of her and realized that she might not be the only one down here. She reached for her belt and unsheathed her dagger as a precaution. Walking as quietly as she could, Quinn moved down the shoreline, nearing the end of the docks.

Suddenly, there was a burst of light as the ship turned on its lights, preparing to leave. It flooded the space with light and she saw two figures ahead of her. Tensing, Quinn held her dagger ahead of her as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

Two terrified pairs of eyes stared at her. They were just little kids, two boys in ragged denim. They held up their hands, showing that they were no threat. The bigger boy stood slightly ahead of the other. “We’ve got nothing for you,” he said, voice shaking a little.

He was afraid of her. Both of them were.

“I don’t need anything from you, I’m just passing by, alright?” she said.

They both nodded and as the ship began to move away, she carefully stepped around them. Once past them, Quinn strode quickly out from under the docks.

Suddenly, something grabbed at the back of her shirt and Quinn was lifted into the air and deposited ungracefully onto the wooden planks of the dock.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, picking herself up quickly. Her next complaint died in her throat as she saw the person who had grabbed her. She stared up at the ugliest face she had ever seen. Mottled grey-green skin and filthy teeth leering at her, grinning.

It wasn’t until he began speaking in a language that she vaguely recognized from history lessons that she realized: he was a goblin.

Seeing that she had no clue what he was saying, he switched to English. “Tryin’ to escape on the ship, eh?”

Quinn shook her head, quickly trying to regain confidence. “Of course not.”

He guffawed and slung her over his shoulder, striding down the dock towards the city. Quinn struggled, but there was no point. He stopped where the city began and tossed her unceremoniously into an alleyway. “Don’t let me catch you around here again,” he warned, walking away.

Groaning, Quinn looked out to sea, just in time to see the ship – her last connection to Auradon – slip through the barrier.

•••

The city was full of – almost seemed to be built with – shadows, in various shades of darkness. Quinn had taken off her outer clothes to fit in better, but the damp denim still restricted her movements a little.

There were a lot of people out and about for the time of night. They huddled in groups outside shops and ran down alleyways. Quinn tried to keep her head down even though she wanted to stare and take everything in. Even though most Auradonians would classify her surroundings as grungy and gross, she found them oddly fascinating. Flickering neon signs advertised for “Tremaine’s Curl up and Dye” and “Gaston’s Gentleman’s Pub.” Particularly loud guffaws came from the latter and she crossed on the other side of the street. She knew Gaston’s reputation.

As she was looking back at the pub, something tripped her up and she fell to the ground. Quinn heard snorts and laughter from behind her and quickly got to her feet.

“You’d better watch where you’re going,” said a girl with short, spiky red hair in studded black and pink leather. Her voice was exaggeratedly sweet and she smirked at the younger girl beside her. This girl also wore black and pink leather and had the same colour hair, which was worn in cornrows into a ponytail.

Getting back on her feet, Quinn tried to look confident. “ _Me_ look out? You were the one who was in the way.”

She tilted her head to the side and her smirk turned into the most terrifying grin Quinn had ever seen. The other girl – probably her sister – smiled in anticipation, stepping back a little.

“Well,” said the older girl. “Aren’t we feeling cocky tonight.” She stepped towards Quinn. “Do you know who I am, lowlife?”

She sounded so much like the girls in Auradon that Quinn felt her blood boil. Except they would always reference their parents’ reputations, not their own. “No, I don’t,” she said, standing her ground. “And I don’t really care about knowing the identities of lowlifes, as you say.”

The girl drew her tongue over her lips and took off her jacket, handing it to her sister. Drawing an elegant rapier from her belt, she took a defensive stance. “Well, let’s see who the lowlife is, then.”

Quinn drew her dagger quickly, earning her another smirk from the terrifying redhead. “Our weapons aren’t exactly equal,” she said.

“You should’ve thought of that earlier,” she said, attacking immediately.

By sheer luck, Quinn managed the block the stroke with her dagger. The girl pushed the blade nearer to her, but Quinn shoved it aside.

Quinn watched her blade for the next attack, but as she seemed to attack her right side, she slipped around Quinn’s left and kicked at the back of her knees. Quinn fell to the ground, turning towards the girl as quickly as she could, rolling out of the way of her rapier. Her eyes glinted in the faint light from the streetlights. She loved to fight.

Scrambling to her feet, Quinn held her dagger out in front of her. If only girls had learned more combat in Auradon. Unfortunately, even in Sherwood, the line was drawn at archery and quarterstaffs.

The girl looked over at her sister, rolling her eyes.

Overconfident.

Quinn ran at her, taking the girl’s move and pretending to go for her stomach and, as she blocked Quinn’s blade with hers, Quinn tried to punch her in the face. She managed to block this as well, but looked – at least, Quinn thought – impressed. Then she tossed Quinn to the ground.

Before Quinn could get up, the girl was on top of her, Quinn’s own dagger to her throat. “If we were more evenly matched, I probably would kill you,” she said. “But you’re boring me, so I’ll just leave you with a reminder.” She quickly sliced a cut on Quinn’s cheek, almost from her ear to her mouth. It was not deep, but it hurt. “Learn to fight before you pick one.”

She got up, still holding Quinn’s dagger, and began to walk away. Then she turned back and threw it towards Quinn’s face. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact, but it embedded itself in the dirt beside her head. “And I’m Skyla,” she said.

Her sister pulled Quinn to her feet by her collar. “I’m Scarlett,” she said with a smile that quickly disappeared, “and I would’ve been less lenient,” she sneered, punching her square in the nose.

Quinn stumbled against the wall as she heard their retreating footsteps. Hand over her nose, which was pouring blood, she quickly grabbed her dagger and hurried farther down the alleyway to be alone.

Trying not to cry, she sat against a brick wall in the darkness. The cut of her cheek stung and her nose throbbed and her entire body was sore from all of today’s events. Quinn dug the cap from her backpack and used it to wipe the blood from her hands and face before holding it to her nose.

It was starting to dawn on her that perhaps she was not cut out to live here. Even what she had learned in Sherwood seemed cushy compared to here. She may look the part, but she most certainly did not have the required skills.

Eventually, her nose stopped bleeding and the cut began to scab over. Quinn wiped away the few tears that had escaped against her will and shoved the bloody hat into her bag. She was here now and so she had to learn to survive here. And clearly, that meant avoiding conflict until she was able to handle it.

But first, she needed some rest. Nobody seemed to be coming down this alleyway, so Quinn curled up in the corner behind some foul-smelling trash cans, using her backpack as a pillow. It was much less comfortable than her bed at Auradon Prep, but she was exhausted, so she fell asleep quickly.


	4. Four | The Isle

Quinn woke to the sound of fighting and opened her eyes to see that it was light. Staying as quiet as she could, she peeked around the trash cans.

Two boys, ten or eleven years old, were in the middle of a fistfight, egged on by a group of kids about their age. Once one was thrown to the ground and held down for a certain amount of time, the group split in two and parted ways.

The streets were bustling, a strange type of colourful. It wasn’t like the markets in Auradon Central, with their brightly coloured booths and flower decorations, but had its own charm. The colours ranged farther – darker – like the Underground, and Quinn marvelled at all the unique clothing and hairstyles. There was leather and denim and studs, and dreadlocks and mohawks and hair in all the colours of the rainbow.

Vendors aggressively called out their wares and haggled with customers. Everything had an air of tension to it. Clenched fists, holding bags tight, ready for a fight.

They did seem to be exchanging Auradanian money, so Quinn went up to a man selling bread. “How much for a loaf?” she asked.

“Eight bucks,” said the man.

“Eight bucks?” she exclaimed. The woman ahead of her had gotten it for four bucks. “That’s double the regular price!”

“Six then,” he said.

She was about to protest, but then she saw a little boy, probably about seven or eight, run up to the man. “Papa?” he said, tugging at his sleeve.

“Good enough,” Quinn muttered, pressing the money into his hand and leaving quickly with the bread.

Eating her way through the entire loaf, Quinn wandered around the market. She listened to people’s conversations as she passed, trying to figure out who the major players on the Isle were.

She knew that Maleficent was the self-proclaimed and undisputed leader, but there seemed to be specific groups under her. They had varying amounts of power and were in constant conflict with each other. Various names were thrown about: the Queens, the Defiant Doom, the Innocents, etc.

Quinn knew she had to make an alliance if she was to survive, so she tried to figure out which gang seemed to be the most appealing. The Defiant Doom sounded powerful, so she listened carefully to any mention of it.

“... Tukafotana and his Defiant Doom were in action tonight.”

Her ears perked up and she casually sidled closer to the voices.

“Yeah, well, what do you expect? Genevieve, Georgitte and their girls have been pushing the border for weeks.”

“Their victory was surprising, though.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Ha, yeah. Better avoid Tuka’s shop anyway though, he’ll be celebrating.”

Slipping away before they saw her, she smiled a little. This Tukafotana seemed to be a good idea for an ally. He and his gang seemed to be fairly prominent and successful. And if he was in a good mood today, perhaps he would be more open to a new ally.

•••

Quinn stood in the alley beside the Defiant Doom’s hideout. She took a few deep breaths, psyching herself up. “Come on,” she muttered to herself. “You’ve got this.” She opened her eyes and said to the empty air in front of her. “I would like to see Tukafotana about an alliance. Or, maybe, about joining the Defiant Doom.” She took a breath. “I could be beneficial to your gang: I am stealthy, good at climbing and have experience in hand-to-hand combat as well as combat with weapons.” She sighed. “It’s just like a job interview, and at least they taught us how to do those.”

Squaring her shoulders, Quinn stepped out onto the street.

And bumped right into someone.

Biting back an apology, she stepped back to see who she had bumped into. It was a guy, looking to be around nineteen or twenty, with shoulder-length black hair and an arrogant smile.

“You would watch where you’re going, love,” he said in a charming accent.

Daughter of a villain, she reminded herself. “You should watch where you’re going.” She paused. “And don’t call me love.” She tried to push past him, but he wouldn’t move.

Quinn glared at him. “Move, ple –” she stopped herself. “I’m in a hurry.”

“To make an ally of Tukafotana?” he asked quietly, his smirk widening.

Fiddling with the edge of her denim jacket, Quinn chastised herself. An out-loud pep-talk hadn’t been the best idea.

“You know,” he said, leaning as though he was telling her a secret. “Letting everyone hear your nefarious plan is not a great idea.”

“My plan isn’t nefarious!” Quinn exclaimed. “It’s purely diplomatic.”

His eyebrows rose.

Quinn cleared her throat quickly. “Anyway, whatever my plans are, they are none of your business.” She pushed past him – successfully this time – and walked toward the front door.

“You know,” he was beside her again and he slung an arm over her shoulder. “I would make a much better ally than Tuka.”

Frustrated, Quinn shoved his arm away and turned to him. “Oh yeah? Who are you, anyway?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” With a dramatic bow, he said. “I am Jax. The Magnificent.”

It was Quinn’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “The Magnificent? Aren’t we presumptuous?”

He grinned. “And you are?”

“Not interested in an alliance.” She turned around again, but Jax jumped in front of her.

“You’re pretty good at comebacks for someone from Auradon.”

Quinn froze, staring wide-eyed at him. She thought she had been doing so well. Trying to collect herself, she scoffed, “From Auradon? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve done a good job hiding it, I’ll admit, but I can tell.”

She tried desperately to think of a response but came up blank.

“Now tell me, who are you really?”

Realizing that she had no choice but to tell him and hope to have an ally in him, Quinn led them into the next alley.

“Okay, fine, I grew up in Auradon, but I belong here.” She paused. “My father is Starkey. You probably don’t know him, he’s –”

“Captain Hook’s first mate,” Jax finished. His expression had changed, and he now looked quite serious.

“What?” she asked. “Do you know him?”

Jax looked around. “We should go somewhere less public.” He looked back at her. “Why don’t we get a drink?”

•••

When Jax had suggested that they grab a drink, Quinn had thought coffee, but apparently, that wasn’t what he meant. Once they were seated at a small table in the back corner of the bar, he ordered two beers.

“I’m not old enough to drink,” Quinn protested, but Jax waved it away.

“Neither am I, technically. But I’m not one for technicalities,” he said, shrugging. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Quinn,” she said.

The corner of his mouth rose a little. “Well, Quinn, you have acquired yourself an ally.”

Quinn frowned. It couldn’t be that easy. “Why?”

He hesitated for a moment, but said, “Because my father is Captain Hook, and I take loyalty to one’s crew very seriously.”

She nodded but still was not sure she could trust him. The isolated table they sat at, half-hidden by a plant, and the way he glanced around every so often made her a little nervous.

“So,” he leaned back in his chair. “What can you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, your skills.”

“Uh, well, I’m pretty good at archery and quarterstaff and generally getting around without being seen.”

His eyebrows rose. “They teach that to the heroes and royalty of Auradon?”

She smiled a little. “No, my dad – my adoptive dad – he was one of Robin Hood’s men. We’re a bit unorthodox.”

“Well, thank goodness for that, or else you’d be useless.”

“Thank you, I think,” Quinn said, laughing a little. She liked how everyone seemed to get to the point around here; there were no pretenses, no beating around the bush.

He swigged down the last of his beer. “Well, you’re gonna need some Isle basics before you meet the Crew.”

“The Crew?”

“My gang.”

“Right.”

•••

“Come on, Quinn,” Jax said.

Quinn groaned and got up from the ground, rubbing her arm. They had been training for the past half hour and already she had lost count of how many times Jax had managed – quite easily – to throw her to the ground.

“How am I supposed to fight back if you won’t show me how?” she asked.

“You have to have the instinct to fight back before I can teach you anything.”

“I have the instinct to fight back,” she insisted.

He threw a punch, which she quickly dodged and then stepped back.

He sighed. “No, you have the instinct to avoid conflict.”

“Sorry,” she said quickly.

He threw another punch and this time Quinn put up her arms to block it and pushed it out of the way.

“Better,” he said. “Also, don’t apologize.”

“Ever?” she asked in surprise.

“Ever,” he punched again, hitting her arm – not extremely hard, but it still hurt. She winced and rubbed the spot.

“Don’t show weakness,” he reprimanded. “Don’t say please and thank you. Take what you need, ‘cause no one is going to give it to you.”

He threw another punch and Quinn dodged it and tried to punch back. Of course, he blocked it easily and threw her to the ground. He stood over her and Quinn expected him to help her up, but he did not. She quickly hopped to her feet and took a defensive stance.

He looked her up and down. “Well, now the real training begins.”


	5. Five | The Test

It was dark now and Jax led Quinn to the southeast side of the island. “One more thing,” he said, turning back to her. “Don’t talk about your father. No one cares.”

Quinn blinked. “But that’ll be the first thing they ask when they meet me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe that’s true in Auradon, but here, no one gives a shit about your parents, they give a shit about your skills.”

As she followed him out into the street, she smiled a little. No one here cares about your parents, your familial connections, whereas in Auradon, your rank and importance are based on exactly that. It was why no one from Sherwood has ever been considered for a royal council position. It was why the minor sidekicks have to work so hard to be heard.

She held her head up high as she walked a little behind Jax down the crowded streets. Everyone knew who he was and looked at her curiously. _I’ll make sure they know my name too, not my family name – mine_ , she thought. _That_ caught her off-guard. Since when had she had that desire?

But then she grinned. The VK attitude was already getting to her, and that was alright.

The Crew’s headquarters was by the docks above a small pawnshop. A large pirate ship sat moored nearby.

They stepped inside the shop. A girl – about eleven or twelve – stood behind the cash. She had long black hair and her pale blue eyes lit up when they saw Jax.

“Jax!” she exclaimed. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Recruitment,” he said, his expression softening more than Quinn had seen since meeting him. “This is Quinn.”

“Hi,” Quinn said.

“I’m Jade,” she said, coming over to hem. She looked her up and down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before.”

“Ha, yeah,” Quinn said, nervously.

Fortunately, Jax jumped in. “She was homeschooled.”

Jade nodded. “Well, everyone’s here already, you’d better get up there.”

“You two stay here,” said Jax. “Jade, explain the process to Quinn.”

“What process?” Quinn asked quickly.

Jax looked at her. “What? You didn’t think I’d just let anyone join the Crew, did you? You’re going to have to prove your worthiness.” He grinned and bounded up the steps.

Quinn turned to Jade, trying not to look nervous.

“Don’t worry,” Jade said. “I already passed one part two years ago.”

There were some loud whoops from above.

Jade grinned. “There are two parts: combat and stealth. For combat, you have to fight someone. You’ll fight until one of you surrenders or gets knocked out. For stealth, you have to sneak in somewhere and steal something.”

“That’s all?” Quinn asked. That did not seem too terrible. The combat bit would be hard, but the stealth? She smiled. That would be just fine.

Jade smiled strangely. “That’s all.”

“It’s time!” A voice called from the top for the stairs.

“Alright,” Jade said as she led the way up. Her eyes were glinting with excitement. Apparently, recruitment was entertainment.

Quinn stepped into a room of about fifteen people. They were all dressed like most people on the Isle but looked a little more pirate-y than most. They were all looking at her, sizing her up. Jax stood at the opposite end of the room.

“Walk to the middle of the room,” Jade whispered to her. “Then stop.”

She followed her direction and had the sudden thought that maybe she should bow. Or maybe that was not how things are done around here.

Jax seemed oddly solemn, much different than he had been all afternoon. “State your name before the Crew,” he said.

“Quinn,” Quinn said, rather loudly, head held high.

“And do you want to join the Crew, Quinn?” he asked. His light blue eyes seemed to bore into her as she answered.

“Yes, I do.”

“Very well,” he said. “Jukes.”

Someone stepped forward from the group. They had short brown hair and light brown skin and wore loose ripped jeans and a large denim jacket. Their brown eyes were glinting a little, though, with amusement or anticipation for the fight, Quinn was not sure.

The fight.

Quinn was going to have to fight them.

The rest of the Crew had formed a circle around the two of them. Quinn wanted to look to Jax for direction, but also knew that she had to keep her focus on Jukes.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Jax said nonchalantly.

Quinn had fallen again – the third time perhaps? She had lost count – and could feel the bruises from yesterday again. She spat out the iron taste in her mouth, surprised to see the red blotch on the floor.

Jukes was hanging back for some reason. Were they expecting her to give up? In the crowd, Quinn saw a blonde guy smirk.

She spat blood again and pushed herself up again, bolding her bloody fists up in front of her. There were a few whoops from the crowd.

Jukes nodded thoughtfully, and then sprang at her, fists flying. Quinn blocked as many of them as she could until suddenly they were behind her. Before Quinn could turn around, their arm encircled her neck, holding her fast. Quinn could still breathe, so Jukes was not choking her, but she was pretty stuck.

She struggled as the crowd cheered, and her vision began to blur.

Cold water doused her suddenly.

Quinn gasped and pushed herself into a sitting position. Before her eyes were open, her hand was already on her belt, looking for her dagger. It was not there.

Looking around her, Quinn began to relax. She was in the Crew’s headquarters and they all stood around her. Jukes stood over her, holding an empty bucket.

Quickly, Quinn pushed herself to her feet.

“Not great,” Jukes said to her. “Not terrible, though.”

Quinn nodded. She had not expected to do too well on the combat portion of this test. Hopefully, she would be able to do well enough in the next test that she could still join.

Jax came up to them. “Time for part two. I need you to steal something of Judge Frollo’s.”

Some crewmembers exchanged looks. Judge Frollo was Esmeralda’s villain – and Quasimodo’s too, but in Auradon they did not learn a lot about him.

“It’s a dagger. Silver with rubies in its hilt. Usually keeps it near him. He lives in the chapel.” He grinned. “You have until sunrise to bring it here.”

Quinn looked outside. Judging from the sky, she had only an hour, hour and a half tops. After grabbing her dagger from the ground and shoving it in her belt, Quinn hurried for the stairs, only turning to quickly grin and say, “See you soon.”

•••

The streets were quiet. It was probably around five in the morning. Quinn remembered passing by the chapel yesterday and quickly found it back.

It was a small building, rising up to a steeple. It seemed to be quiet inside and Quinn scouted around it before slipping in through one of the windows. Pews filled the main room and she crouched behind them, making sure she had not been seen.

Steps at the far end of the room led to a second-floor room. The stairs looked old and she stepped as lightly as she could to minimize the creaking. Her hand on her dagger, she crept into the room.

It was light enough already to see an older man, Frollo, laying on the bed, asleep. Keeping an eye on him, Quinn searched the room, probing through drawers as quietly as she could.

Judge Frollo shifted in his bed and she froze, looking over at him. She noticed with dismay that the dagger was under his pillow.

Quinn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was raised by thieves. She could do this.

Staying low to the ground, Quinn crawled towards the bed, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. His face inches away from hers, she gently drew the dagger from under the pillow.

He moved suddenly and she slipped under the bed, holding the dagger to her chest. Heart thumping wildly, she tried to control her breathing, hoping he would not notice it was gone.

The bed creaked and two bare feet came down onto the wooden floorboards. A loud yawn and a sigh. Then a rustle of cloth and a sharp intake of breath.

_Oh, no._

The feet hurried across the room, a black gown sweeping down to cover them. “Florian! Franciose!” a sharp voice called.

There were sounds of movement from downstairs.

“Florian!” he barked again.

Feet scampered across floorboards and a young man with brown hair came up the stairs, looking as though he had just woken up.

“Yes, father?” he asked quickly, his eyes searching Frollo’s face.

“Someone has been in here and has stolen my dagger,” Frollo said sharply.

“Oh, dear,” said Florian.

“Well, don’t just stand there, boy! Call the others, I want this thief found!”

“Yes, father.” Florian inclined his head to his father before scampering down the stairs.

Frollo muttered angrily to himself as he put on a pair of shoes, adjusted his collar and put on his hat. Once he had disappeared down the stairs, Quinn allowed herself to breathe properly again, closing her eyes in relief.

After she heard his retreating footsteps leave the chapel, she carefully came out from under the bed. Not daring to go back out through the main entrance, she peered out the window.

It was only the second floor and vines grew up the walls. This would be easy, not too much different than climbing trees in Sherwood. Quinn put the dagger in her belt beside her own and quickly swung her leg over the windowsill.

Looking back one more time, she noticed a young woman standing in the doorway, her long brown hair hiding most of her face. She stared at Quinn.

“Francoise, right?” Quinn said quietly.

She said nothing.

“You didn’t see me.”

She stared at her.

Taking that as an agreement, Quinn began to climb down, gripping the vines tightly.

“Papa!” Francoise called from inside. “The thief is climbing out your window!”

Quinn cursed inwardly and leapt down from where she was and took off running down an alley. There were footsteps behind her and she ran as fast as she could, rounding corners every time she saw them.

And yet, she was not particularly scared. She knew she should be, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins told her otherwise. She was having an adventure just like those Dad had had. She had stolen from a bad buy.

Soon she found herself at a dead end and quickly scrambled up the dilapidated brick wall, the missing pieces making handholds easy to find. Before running off on the rooftops, Quinn glanced back to see Florian and the other guy, in classic 1400s attire, stuck behind the wall.

Feeling confident, she blew them a kiss before sprinting over the rooftops, clambering up and down rain-pipes and leaping between buildings. These buildings were not too much different than the forest back home.

It was almost sunrise by the time she got back in the vicinity of the Crew’s shop. She hopped back down to street-level and smiled to herself, hand on the hilt of the silver dagger.

As she turned into a smaller street, someone came up behind her and, before she could turn or grab a dagger, put a blindfold over her eyes and something sharp to her back.

“Don’t move,” growled a voice.

Her daggers were taken from her belt and strong hands grabbed her arms and forced her into a building and down some stairs. She tried to struggle, but the grip was too strong.

Quinn was put down in a chair and her wrists and ankles were tied to it before her blindfold was taken off. One other person stood in the room, wearing a black mask. Quinn looked around desperately and tugged at the ropes, but there was no use. Her heart pounded. This could not be happening. Second day and she had already been captured, probably by a rival gang or something.

“So, you’re the newest Crew recruit, huh?” asked the guy, holding Frollo’s dagger. “Nice weapon you got here. Whose is it?”

 _Confidence_ , Quinn told herself. “It’s mine,” she said. “Rightfully stolen.”

“What can you tell me about the Crew?” he asked.

She frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked, slowly.

He turned to her. “What are their weaknesses? What are their plans? Etcetera.”

“Yeah,” Quinn said. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“Come on, it’s not like you owe them anything, it’s not like you’re a member.”

“How do you know?” she countered. “How do you know I’m not a member?”

He paused. “I just know.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“And what if I told you I’d kill you?” he walked up to her slowly, Frollo’s dagger still in his hands.

Quinn tried to keep her breathing even. “I’d say that’s a pretty dumb interrogation method,” she said. “If I’m dead I still can’t tell you anything.”

“And what if I told you I’d torture you?”

Quinn took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. There had to be a way out of this. She looked around the room again. They were in some sort of basement, with cement floor and pipes all over the ceiling. The only way out is a rescue. Quinn looked back at the guy in the mask.

 _And how likely is a rescue?_ she asked herself.

 _Not super likely,_ she answered herself reluctantly.

 _I take loyalty to one’s crew very seriously._ That was what Jax had said. If she withstood this and then the Crew rescued her, she would be a member for sure.

“I still wouldn’t tell you anything.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Alright, let’s test that theory.” Coming closer, he punched her once in the jaw and twice in the gut.

“Tell me about the Crew.”

Quinn groaned, bending over slightly to spit blood onto the ground. It would be a miracle if she reached morning with all her teeth with the way tonight was going.

When she said nothing and he elbowed her hard in the nose. She could feel her head throb and the blood run down her face. She bit down a whimper.

“Tell me about the Crew.”

“No,” Quinn spluttered through the blood that was attempting to run into her mouth.

He pulled out the silver dagger and crouched in front of her. He drew the blade along her collarbone, piercing the skin and making a long cut. Quinn tried not to react, but it hurt so much, and she cried out. She gripped the armrests of the chair and closed her eyes tightly.

“Tell me about the Crew.”

Tears pooled in her eyes and mingled with the blood on her face. Quinn gulped and breathed out slowly. “No,” she said as forcefully as she could.

“No?” he asked, chuckling darkly and brandishing the knife again. Quinn closed her eyes in preparation.

“Alright, Blake, I think that’s enough,” said a familiar voice.

Quinn opened her eyes and looked around the room hopefully.

The guy pulled off his mask and Quinn recognized him as the blond one who had smirked during her fight with Jukes. He sighed. “Yes, captain.”

Jax stepped out of the shadows and she sighed in relief as Blake untied her hands from the chair.

“What is going on?” Quinn asked, quickly untying her feet.

“Well, we couldn’t exactly tell you about this part of the test,” he said, matter-of-factly. “It wouldn’t have been genuine.”

“That was part of the test?” Quinn exclaimed, a little outraged.

He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know why you’re so mad about it, you passed with flying colours.”

Quinn carefully controlled her breathing and tried to slow her heartbeat back down to normal. She looked over at Blake, who watched her with a slight smirk.

“So,” she said, casually as she could muster. “Do I qualify for the elite gang that is the Crew?”

“Well,” he said slowly. “We’ll definitely have to work on your combat skills, but,” he paused and grinned. “Yeah, you’re in.”

She tried to suppress the wide smile that tried to creep over her face. “Awesome,” she said, nodding contentedly. Inside she was squealing with joy; she had passed the orientation test of a villain gang!

“You’ll report to Sheela and Cai at the headquarters. Jade should be in the shop and she’ll answer any questions you may have.” He nodded at Blake, but as they turned to go, he turned around and gave her a wink.

•••

Alone in the abandoned building, Quinn smiled again and practically skipped towards the door. Jax and Blake had already disappeared when she stepped out into the street. She made her way back to the headquarters and found Jade standing behind the counter again.

She looked up and raised her eyebrows when she saw Quinn. “I’m assuming that since you’re back here, you passed the other two tests,” she said.

“Yep,” Quinn said, nodding. “I’m supposed to find Sheela and Cai now?”

Jade nodded. “They’re upstairs, probably waiting for you.”

Upstairs, two people were indeed waiting for her. The girl – Sheela – had red hair and a kind face. Cai had black hair and olive skin and seemed to be constantly on the lookout.

“Hi,” Quinn said, trying not to sound nervous.

They looked over at her. Cai looked her up and down in an almost clinical way, but Sheela got up and came towards her, an almost warm expression on her face.

“Quinn, right?” she said, “I’m Sheela.” They shook hands. “Welcome to the Crew,” she said.

Cai came to stand beside her. “I’m Cai,” he said.

Matching his impassivity, Quinn inclined her head slightly to him in greeting.

Sheela sighed a little and turned to Cai. “If you’ve got something to do, just go, I can handle this on my own. Just make sure the sailors get in here soon.”

Cai nodded once at Quinn and then left the room.

“I don’t think he likes me,” Quinn said jokingly.

Sheela smiled. “Cai doesn’t really like anybody.”

She sat down on the iron steps that led up to the loft and Quinn sat down beside her.

“So, the basics,” she said. “Jax is the captain, obviously. Saoirse, my sister, is the first mate and Cyrus, Cai’s brother, is quartermaster. Seamus, my brother, and Jukes are sailing masters and Blake is the gunner. Cai and I are boatswains. You’re a sailor and your fellow sailors are Clove, Nia and Nabil, and Hugo. Then there are the Powder Monkeys – they’re not full members – Jade and Harper.”

Quinn blinked a few times at the amount of information being thrown at her. “Right.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out as you get going. All you need to know is that you report to Cai and me.”

“Hey, Sheela!” Jade called. “The sailors are here.”

“Come on up!” Sheela called.

The first person up the stairs was a boy with blond hair that reached to his shoulders. Two people followed him – almost identical to each other. Their skin was a dark olive and their eyes dark brown. The only difference was that one had long black hair, while the other had it short. Last in the group was a kid with dark golden chestnut skin and a mess of bright red curls on the top of their head with the sides shaved.

“And these are the Sailors, whom you’ll likely be spending the most time with,” Sheela said.

“I heard you had Blake for the loyalty test,” the blond guy said, wincing sympathetically. “I’m Harper.” He held out his hand to shake and Quinn did so.

“Dude, do you know how pissed Frollo is?” the redhead said. “I mean, he already hates us, but damn, you snuck in his room and stole a dagger from under his pillow.” They slapped Quinn on the shoulder. “I’m Clove, they/them pronouns.”

“Nia,” said the twin with long hair. “And this is my little brother, Nabil.”

“Hey!” Nabil protested. “You need to stop introducing us like that.” He turned to Quinn. “Nia is indeed my sister, only older by two minutes,” he shot her a glare. “But we’re twins, so obviously it doesn’t count.”

Smiling, Quinn said, “Obviously.” She could tell she was going to like them. 


	6. Six | The Crew

Sheela showed Quinn to her bunk that evening. The forecastle was a bit cramped and hammocks hung from the ceiling. Quinn’s was in the corner and underneath it sat a chest for her belongings.

“Not the entire crew lives down here, just those who don’t want to or can’t stay with their parents,” Sheela explained.

Quinn wanted to ask why but did not want to pry or seem ignorant. So, she just nodded.

“You’ll be woken when it’s your time for watch,” Sheela said as she walked away. “You have the crappiest time cause you’re new, so I suggest you get some sleep!”

Quinn had many questions. Why was it the crappiest time? Would she be on watch alone? What exactly did ‘watch’ entail? But instead, she took Sheela’s advice and got into the hammock.

As it turned out, the reason it was the crappiest time is that you’re woken up right before you’re deeply sleeping.

“Oi!” a voice jumped into Quinn’s vaguely forming dreams. Her hammock swung back and forth as she blearily opened her eyes. “Your watch, newbie.”

Quinn sat up and tried to get up as quickly as she could and tumbled to the ground. A chuckle sounded from somewhere above her.

The forecastle was almost pitch-black and Quinn carefully stood up. Cyrus, the quartermaster, stood in front of her.

“You’re on with Saoirse,” he said, gesturing towards a tall figure with red hair on the opposite side of the cabin. When she turned, Quinn recognised her as the first mate.

“I want you up there with me in one minute,” she said and climbed up the steps up to the main deck.

Quinn quickly pulled on her boots, tossed on her jacket and put her dagger in her belt.

Saoirse stood on the quarterdeck. Unsure of what else to do, Quinn went up and joined her. She stood beside her and followed her gaze towards the docks. They stood there in silence for a while.

“Blake spoke to me about your performance at the test,” she said finally. “He’s the gunner, so he’s in charge of fighting and weapons training.”

Quinn glanced at her quickly to try to see where this was going, but she was expressionless.

“He says it’s clear you have basically no training,” she said bluntly. Quinn ducked her head slightly. “But that you’re not beyond hope.”

“Really?” Quinn asked before she could stop herself.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, so I don’t have to go ask Jax why the hell he recruited you.” Saoirse’s eyes never left the shore.

Quinn nodded and refocused on the island. Saoirse was not exactly warm and cuddly, but she liked that about her.

The night was uneventful and it gave Quinn time to think. She crossed the deck to look out over the water, from where she could see the lights of Auradon. She could imagine the students of Auradon Prep, sleeping safely in their beds, not having to be on guard at all times. She tried not to think about Dad. She had not told him because she knew he would worry – and try to talk her out of it. She had sent a note by mail the morning she left, so he would have received it by now. It was short and to the point.

_Dear Dad,_

_I’m going travelling up north, just to think. I don’t know when I’ll be back._

_I love you,_

_Quinn_

She had always wanted to go north, so it was believable enough. She just hoped he did not blame himself for her leaving. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him.

“We usually don’t get attacked from the water,” Saoirse called.

Quinn nodded and crossed the deck, so she faced the island again. The moon was nearly full and bathed the city in its pale light. It seemed to never truly sleep – there were still people bustling about, although fewer than during the day. Although it had scared her at first, Quinn was starting to see the beauty in it.

Quinn woke the next morning to a bell ringing. Around her, she heard the sounds of others also just waking up. Blearily she sat up and nearly toppled out of her hammock. The bell rang again, and someone called, “Breakfast! Five minutes!”

Quinn managed to get out of the hammock without faceplanting into the ground and quickly averted her eyes from a guy getting changed a few hammocks over. Everyone here seemed pretty chill about changing in front of each other. Quinn was not quite confident enough, though, and quickly shimmied her bra on under her shirt and pulled on her jacket and boots.

She followed the rest up to the main deck, where she saw Nia, Nabil, and Hugo, who did not sleep aboard the Jolly Roger. She joined them.

Breakfast was bread and cheese, which Hugo’s little brother, Harper, was very excited about. “We never get cheese!”

Hugo rolled his eyes but tore into the food just as enthusiastically.

“How was your first watch?” Nabil asked.

“Kinda boring,” she said, shrugging.

Nia nodded. “Yeah.”

“Hey, Quinn,” Sheela had come over to them. “After breakfast, you’re training in the shop with Blake.”

Quinn nodded and turned to Nabil once Sheela had left. “Which one’s Blake?” she said quietly.

“Blond guy,” said Nabil, pointedly looking at his food. “Beside the redhead – who’s Seamus, by the way, his fling.”

Quinn was about to ask what he meant by ‘fling,’ when she saw who he was referring to. It was the guy who had administered the loyalty part of her test. She quickly looked down before he caught her looking his way.

“Yeah, he’s way scary, but good at his job,” Hugo said.

Nia nodded. “He trained all of us. I don’t think he’s ever been beaten in a fight.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Quinn said. She looked up again and saw that Blake was looking at her. The way his eyes looked through her made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

•••

The sword was heavy in Quinn’s hand – heavier than she had expected. Just holding it in front of her defensively was difficult and she had to build up momentum to swing it, which meant that a surprise attack was basically impossible.

Blake was going to train her in weapons combat. He was the gunner, which meant he was in charge of training and weapons. Quinn tried not to be afraid of him, but she was. After the whole fake kidnapping and real torture, she had avoided him. It had seemed too real, and he had been enjoying himself a little too much.

And a little too hesitant to stop.

“Alright,” he said, holding a wooden practice sword. “I will first test you to see which weapon you have the most potential in.” He eyed the way Quinn was holding the sword. “From the look of it, that won’t be the sword, but I’m allowed to have my fun.”

Without any word of warning, he swung his sword and, before Quinn could get her blade up to block his, the flat side hit her in the shoulder. The blow was not hard enough to knock her over, but it did hurt.

“If I’d been trying to kill you,” Blake said. “You’d be dead.”

Quinn set her jaw and gripped the sword hilt tightly.

This time, she swung first. He blocked it easily, but she saw his expression change. This was what she was supposed to do.

He faked to the left and then came at her right, but years of training with the quarter-staff as well as her encounter with Skyla and Scarlett had taught Quinn to know a feint when she saw one. She managed to bring up her blade to block it.

She celebrated this small victory too much, however, and Blake smacked the fingers of her right hand with the flat of his blade. Quinn cried out and dropped the sword. As she quickly stooped to pick it up, Blake kicked it out of her reach. She felt the tip of his wooden sword at her throat and slowly stood up.

“And. You’re dead,” he said. “Never take your eyes off your opponent.” He rolled his eyes.

Daggers were next. Again, Quinn used a real one while Blake took a wooden one. She supposed she kind of had experience with this weapon, although she was not sure if a losing fight counted as experience. She copied Blake’s stance: blade pointed down and left foot ahead.

Quinn knew she had to pay attention to his blade, that was obvious, but also his feet, because that sometimes betrayed future moves.

He stepped forward and Quinn flinched, jumping back. He grinned and she knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. She calmly took her position again and he attacked this time. Quinn tried to block his blade with hers, as she had done with the sword, but that did not work well this time; the blades were too short. The wooden dagger slashed across her stomach.

“Dead,” said Blake.

Now she knew how this worked. When he attacked, she would try to block his arm while going in herself. She never got him though, he was just too fast.

They trained with daggers for a longer time than they had with swords. Quinn hoped this meant she had more potential. He never gave her any instructions or tips, just the one word, over and over again: _dead_.

Once, after a few particularly short bouts, the last one ending with her falling on her back hard, Quinn snapped.

“Dead,” said Blake, as he had for the past fifteen minutes.

Quinn sat up and threw her dagger to the ground. It skittered over the concrete floor. “Then teach me damnit! You’re supposed to be training me, so tell me what I’m doing wrong!”

Blake just looked at her, his face remaining expressionless. He drew the wooden dagger across her neck. “Dead,” he said.

Nearly growling in frustration, Quinn tackled into him, sending them both rolling over the floor. She pulled out her own dagger – which she had kept hidden – and held it to his throat. “Dead,” she snarled.

Instead of looking shocked, or surprised even, he grinned. It was the most frustrating reaction possible.

“What?” Quinn asked.

He pushed her off of him – with more ease than she could have hoped for – and said, “So, what did you learn?” in an infuriatingly condescending tone

Quinn frowned, getting to her feet. “What?” she said again.

He rolled his eyes. “I made you angry. You fought better. One of the reasons you didn’t do well in the fight with Jukes was because you didn’t want to fight them. That, and a lack of training,” he added.

Blake placed his wooden dagger back in its place on the wall. “Channel your anger, frustration, whatever, into your fights,” he said walking towards the door. “Class dismissed.”

•••

After Blake Left, Quinn stayed to practise the sword on her own. She swung at an imaginary opponent, trying to flow through the moves gracefully, like she could with a bow and quarterstaff. Her arms were starting to tire when she heard footsteps behind her.

Still a little on edge, she spun around, stopping her blade when she saw it was Jax.

He barely flinched. “I take it training went well then?”

Quinn sheathed the sword. “I understand why he’s Gunner.”

“You don’t like him,” Jax noted with the ghost of a smile.

“He’s just... very intense.”

“And scary?”

“Wouldn’t saying that be admitting to weakness? I understand that’s a big no-no around here.”

Jax just smiled.

“He is going to teach me actual moves though, right? Not just to fuel my fight with anger?”

“I could show you something if you’d like,” Jax said, stepping closer.

Quinn could tell there was definitely more than friendly helpfulness on his mind, but she did not really care. Why not have a little fun? She smiled. “Alright.”

“First we need to fix your grip,” he said, stepping closer to Quinn. He prodded her fingers to the middle of the hilt. “Don’t hold it like you’re choking it.” Holding his hand over hers, he stepped behind her, almost flush against her back. Quinn felt her breath hitch but tried not to let on. “Think of it like an extension of your arm, a part of you.” He guided her in slowly slashing the sword in front of her. “Your other hand,” he took her wrist lightly. “is mostly for balance, or a good punch to the face if the need arises.”

“And footwork?” Quinn asked in a voice just above a whisper.

“All your movement has to come from your core.” He placed a gentle hand on her waist, sending tingles up her spine. “If you think about your feet too much, you’ll trip yourself up. We’re not here to do pretty footwork, but to fight effectively. Think of it like moving your core and your feet should cooperate.” With light pressure to her waist, he guided her across the floor.

“Going slowly is all well and good,” Quinn said. “But I doubt it’ll help in a fight.”

“Once you can do it well slowly, you can do it quickly.” His voice was low, and Quinn could feel his breath on her cheek. “It’s all about muscle memory.” He suddenly twirled her out of his grasp and Quinn heard the scrape of his sword against his scabbard. Quickly, she stepped toward the flash of light on the steel of the blade. A clang rang out and Quinn realized that she had blocked the strike. For a moment, she was stunned and did not move.

Jax pulled back his sword, pulling her off-balance. With her guard down, he pushed her back until she hit a wall, his blade at her throat. Quinn’s breath caught again, feeling the press of his body against hers. She grinned a little.

Jax raised an eyebrow, returning the grin. “There’s hope for you yet.”


	7. Seven | The Innocents

The next night, Quinn was on watch at the same time, again with Saoirse. They were about halfway through the watch when Quinn heard a splash from the other side of the ship, the side facing the water. She looked over at Saoirse to make sure she had heard it as well, but she had already rushed over and was peering over the side.

Suddenly, Saoirse jumped back as an arrow flew up from the side.

“We’re under attack!” she bellowed as the first figure clambered over the railing of the ship.

Saoirse’s sword was out in a flash, but so was theirs. In the meagre light from the ship’s lanterns, Quinn could hardly see who it was.

More figures came over the sides and still no one had come from the forecastle. Quinn was frozen in place, her sword and dagger still in her belt.

Saoirse had a moment to glance back at her. “Quinn!” she shouted. “We’re under attack!”

There was no panic in her eyes, not even fear. They glinted with the same excitement Quinn had seen in Blake’s eyes and Jukes’s eyes. And somehow, that was what unfroze her and set her sprinting down the steps. There were figures all over the deck. They had swords and daggers and other blades that glinted in the low light.

Quinn pulled out her dagger, but she knew she was no match for these people. They had trained their whole lives, and she had had one day of training in total.

But she did not have to fight them. She just had to get to the forecastle.

So, Quinn ran, not at the attackers, but straight across the deck to the front of the ship. They had not been expecting that move, so she got about halfway before there was someone in my way.

They lunged forward with their sword – a real sword – and she managed to duck out of the way, almost stumbling. She ducked around a particularly big guy with a mace-looking weapon and tumbled down the steps into the sailor’s quarters.

“We’re under attack!” she hollered, stumbling into as many hammocks as she could see in the darkness. There were thumps and groans as people woke, but they were almost immediately awake. Before a single attacker got down the stairs, there were crewmembers there to meet them.

Once she was sure everyone was awake, Quinn steeled herself and ran up the steps behind the others. The main deck was utter chaos. Metal clashed. People yelled. Bodies tumbled and bumped into each other. She hesitated at the top of the steps and was pushed out of the way by the person behind her.

Quinn recognized faces in the mess. Saoirse, her hair flying behind her. Cai’s brother, whose name she had forgotten, his mouth open in a yell. Looking up, Quinn saw a girl, no older than fifteen, up in the rigging, ready to strike from above.

A blade swung at her from out of nowhere and she stumbled back into the wall. The blade embedded itself in the wood of the steps and its wielder tried to pull it out. She recognized him as the son of Frollo. It was the Innocents.

Seeing that he was distracted, Quinn stomped on his foot and then plowed her shoulder into him as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards and before she could go for him, Sheela was there. She wielded a broadsword that looked extremely heavy. She lunged at him and he backed up, using his momentum against him, she kicked him in the chest, and he fell against the railing. He stood there for a moment before losing his balance and falling overboard.

There was a loud splash and Sheela turned to Quinn. “Go get Jax.”

“But –”

“You’re no use here yet,” Sheela snapped. “That’s an order.”

Quinn nodded and quickly made her way to the gangplank, dodging blades and people as well as she could. An elbow sent her tumbling to the ground and she ended up half-crawling most of the way.

Except the gangplank was not there. In the chaos of the fight, it had been knocked down and it floated in the water, way down below.

The only other things connecting the ship to the dock were ropes.

“Oh, this is a terrible idea,” Quinn muttered to herself as she put her sword back in her belt. She clambered over the railing, finding footholds a little way down the side of the ship, and shuffled her way over to a rope. Taking a deep breath, she slung her legs around it. Then she gripped it in her hands and let herself hang under it.

No tree-climbing could have prepared her for this. The rope swung more than any branch had and she felt the blood rushing to her head. But she kept slowly going hand-over-hand and leg-over-leg down the rope.

At last, her feet felt the wood of the dock and Quinn managed to scramble up onto the wood, exhausted.

But her task was not done yet, and she picked herself up and ran as fast as she could. Her lungs were burning by the time she reached the pawnshop. Panting, she began to bang on the door. “Jax! Jax!”

She heard footsteps on the stairs and a moment later the door opened.

“Quinn?” Jax said, a little bleary-eyed. “What the hell?”

“Under attack,” she panted.

“Who?” Jax asked, grabbing a sword from a nearby table. “The Queens? The Innocents?”

“Innocents,” she said. “I saw Frollo’s son.”

“Jax?”

They both looked into the shop. Jade stood at the bottom of the stairs, trying to pull on a jacket and her second boot at the same time.

“You stay here, Jade,” Jax said.

She frowned but did not protest.

He turned to Quinn. “Go get the twins and Hugo.”

“I don’t know whe –” She stopped herself. She was a member of the Crew now she could figure it out. “Yes, captain.”

He grinned and ran out into the night.

“You don’t know where they live,” Jade said, coming to stand beside her, smiling slightly. “I do.”

Quinn looked at her. She was really young. But she did know the neighbourhood and it would take ages for her to find the right places on her own. She sighed. “As long as your brother doesn’t find out,” she conceded.

Jade grinned and grabbed a small sword from a rack on the wall. “Let’s go.”

•••

They ran through the dark streets, dodging people. Jade was fast and even though she was smaller than Quinn, she almost had a hard time keeping pup. Quinn followed her as they took sharp turns and ran through narrow alleyways.

Jade stopped in front of a house with a faint light coming from under the door, so she knocked.

The door opened and a middle-aged man with greying red hair looked out. “Jade?”

“We need Hugo,” Jade said quickly.

“Harper too?” His voice was smooth and deceptively kind.

“No,” Quinn said quickly. “Just Hugo.”

He looked over at her and Quinn tried not to squirm under his gaze. “Hugo!” he hollered back into the house. “And who are you?”

“Quinn,” she said. “New recruit.” They don’t care about parentage, she reminded herself.

He nodded, and footsteps bounded down the stairs. Hugo appeared at the door, fully suited up.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes glinting with what seemed to be excitement as he looked at them.

“Innocents attacked the ship,” Quinn said, copying the short, matter-of-fact way people had been speaking all night.

He nodded. “Well, let’s get the twins and finish them off!”

Soon, all five of them were running through the night, dodging people and cutting through abandoned buildings. Quinn was starting to feel a little winded, but the others seemed fine, so she did not let on. She had always been fairly athletic, but this was more activity than she was used to.

Finally, they were back at the ship, but everything was quiet. The gangplank was still missing, but the deck was empty.

“Where’d they go?” Quinn asked, looking to the others for an explanation.

“We missed it,” said Hugo disappointedly.

“Hey!” hollered Nia. “Hey?”

No one on deck. Not even someone on watch.

Suddenly, something passed behind them and they all spun around. Everybody’s weapons were out, and Quinn quickly followed suit. They searched their surroundings for any danger.

“There’s no one on the ship,” Nabil said quietly.

“Could the Innocents have taken it?” Quinn asked.

Jade shook her head. “No way, even with just the ship’s crew, we have more fighters.”

“Unless they made an alliance,” Nia suggested.

Jade snorted. “They’re all so high and mighty, they’d never stoop to ally with anyone.”

Hugo looked over at Quinn. “Are you sure it was the Innocents?”

She nodded. “I recognized Frollo’s son.”

Suddenly, a maniacal laugh echoed around them and Quinn froze, feeling panic spread over her. For the first time, she saw fear in the faces of her companions. Nabil’s breath hitched.

“Everyone get in a circle,” Nia ordered. “We can’t leave our backs exposed.”

They obeyed her and all peered into the darkness, ready for an attack. Quinn felt her spine prickle.

“Do you think it’s –” Hugo started, but Jade shushed him.

The laugh sounded again, possibly closer this time, but it was hard to tell.

“There!” Nia whispered and they all turned to look. In an alleyway, there was a figure – only a silhouette really, since it was lighted from the back. Hair stuck up in spikes and a rapier glinted in the grungy streetlights.

“Harriet,” breathed Jade, but before Quinn could ask who that was, she attacked with a screech no less frightening than her laugh. And she was fast. While everyone Quinn had seen fight on this island had been a competent to skilled fighter, she put them all to shame.

She took on all five of them at the same time, spinning and slashing, occasionally sending that chilling laugh echoing out over the water. Nia and Nabil moved in cooperating motions; Jade darted in and out whenever she saw an opening; Hugo slashed and hacked. Quinn tried to stay out of their way and not get killed while also trying not to be entirely useless.

Yet she withstood them all, her bright – almost mad – eyes flashing and her long red coat whipping about as she moved. She was graceful, beautiful, and utterly terrifying.

And Quinn wanted to be her.

They were going to lose the fight. It was ridiculous that the five of them could not match – let alone defeat – one person, but it was true. Hugo cried out in pain as Harriet’s blade slashed his arm. Jade’s attacks were getting slower and Quinn could tell they were all getting tired.

Although Quinn was the oldest in the group, she was the least experienced and doubted they would listen if she called a retreat. But what else could they do?

“We need to retreat,” Quinn hissed to Jade when she found herself beside her for a moment. Jade darted in but her short blade did not allow her very much reach. Using her attack on the one side, Quinn quickly slipped around Harriet, thinking to catch her off-guard. She did not and was thrown to the ground.

Jade pulled her up, nodded and called, “Full retreat!”

She was the youngest of all of them, not even a full member of the Crew, yet her voice carried such confidence and authority that she was immediately obeyed. Hugo, Nia, and Nabil stopped their attack and joined them as they sprinted towards the pawnshop.

Quinn hoped that maybe Harriet had tired as well, not daring a glance behind.

They reached the shop, and all tumbled inside, Nia locking the door behind. “She didn’t follow us,” she said, looking through the glass.

“Who _is_ that?” Quinn asked, out of breath.

“Harriet,” said Nabil, as though it was obvious, which it probably was to someone who had grown up here. “Bit of a legend.”

“I didn’t quite believe she was real,” said Hugo. “Hardly anyone ever sees her, and it’s hard to stay hidden on an island this small.”

Harriet. The red coat. The crazy behaviour. She must be the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, Quinn realized.

“What do we do now?” asked Hugo.

Quinn looked around at the group, wondering who technically the leader in this case was. She was the oldest, but the newest recruit. Jade was a Powder Monkey, the youngest, but held a certain amount of authority. Nia was practical, Nabil was thoughtful, and Hugo itching for a fight.

“I say we go out and find the Crew,” said Nia. “They’re clearly not on the ship –”

“Unless they’re being held captive,” interrupted Nabil quietly.

All eyes turned to him.

“Wouldn’t they have someone on watch?” asked Jade.

“Why do you think Harriet attacked us?” Nabil countered.

“But the Innocents would never join forces with any of us, much less Harriet, she’s a loose cannon.”

“Maybe they’re desperate,” Quinn said. “Desperate people do stupid things.” She had wanted to stay silent and let them talk and not intrude, but she was a part of the Crew now.

None of them argued with her, just all nodded solemnly.

“How will we ever get past her then?” asked Hugo.

“The Innocents boarded the ship from the water,” Quinn said.

Nia nodded and added. “We could swim out and do the same, avoiding her.”

Quinn was trembling all over when they left through the back door of the shop. Harriet’s laugh and wide eyes had terrified her more than anything in her life. But the rest did not seem to be as affected; Nia’s jaw was set, her twin brother at her side. Hugo gripped his sword tightly as he took up the rear and Jade’s eyes darted around. They were tense, ready, but not scared. So, Quinn took a breath and tried to calm her racing heart.

Once they were sure they were out of sight of Harriet, they clambered down the docks and quietly made their way through the shallows underneath. Some light from the moon peeked in through the spaces between the slats of wood, casting light stripes on everyone. But it was still very dark, and Quinn could not shake the feeling that they were not alone.

As they neared the ship, the water got deeper until they had to start swimming. Above, Quinn heard someone pacing in front of the ship. Nia gestured for them all to be quiet.

They were beside the ship now and all came together around one of the supports for the docks.

Nia made gestures explaining that they would go one at a time and swim around the ship and congregate on the other side. Hugo, the strongest swimmer, went first. His jaw was set in determination, he glanced up to make sure Harriet was facing the other way and then quietly dove beneath the dark water. He did not resurface until he had reached the bow of the ship and quickly disappeared on the other side.

Nabil went next, followed by Nia. Once they were out of sight, Quinn turned to Jade and pointed for her to go back to the shop.

She shook her head and started to swim out from under the dock. Quinn grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. The splashes that ensued from the struggle were louder than she had expected, and she froze. Her grip on Jade lessened and she was soon out of reach.

Quinn sighed and closed her eyes. She knew she was more experienced than her, but she was a kid!

Once Jade was out of sight, Quinn followed, trying to swim as quietly as she could. Her arms and legs were beginning to ache, and the water was very cold, but she managed to get to the bow without incident. She glanced once behind her to ensure that Harriet had not seen her and made her way to the others, holding onto the side of the ship.

Nabil, Nia, Hugo, and Jade were discussing strategy as Quinn came to the group. “Jade,” she whispered. “You need to go back.”

She turned to her. “I’m here now, going back would risk getting caught by Harriet.”

“But your brother –”

“Rules are meant to be broken,” Jade interrupted.

And that seemed to be the end of it. Nia, Nabil, and Hugo were more focused on their plan and did not seem very concerned about Jade’s presence.

“So, what’s the plan?” Quinn asked.

Nia shrugged. “We get aboard and try to free them.”

“They’re probably being held in the brig,” Hugo said.

“Way at the bottom of the ship,” Nabil added helpfully.

Quinn looked up the side of the ship. It looked a lot taller from this vantage point.

Nia started climbing first, finding hand– and footholds along the side of the ship. The rest followed with Hugo taking up the rear. They soon came to the gun ports – where the cannons would be shot from. Nia peeked in carefully and, finding the coast clear, signalled to the others. One by one, they managed to slip inside, squeezing past the cold metal of the cannons.

It was dim inside had to squint to see the others. They tried to move quietly over the wooden floor but the water dripping from them did not help.

Footsteps sounded from below, coming up the steps, and they all scrambled back, splitting up to hide behind two cannons.

Two figures emerged from the hold. “…change sides eventually,” one was saying. “Then we’ll be able to face Maleficent at last.”

The other person merely nodded as they made their way to the steps to the main deck.

“Come on, Gareth,” the first said cheerfully. “Why are you so subdued?”

“If we fail, our fathers –” His voice was quiet, cautious.

“We won’t fail,” the first one snapped. “It’ll be fine.”

The voices retreated as they went up the steps. Quinn breathed out a sigh of relief as they quietly started towards the steps down again. Before they descended the steps, Nabil looked down, carefully sticking his head down the entrance so he could see the brig.

After coming back up, he whispered. “One guard – Florian.”

Hugo nodded. “He’s good, but we can take him.”

“We have the element of surprise,” Nia said.

“We have to be quiet about it though,” Quinn whispered. They all looked at her, but she continued. “If the rest hear us, we’re screwed.”

Nabil nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe we need a subtler approach, a way to incapacitate him without causing a ruckus.”

“I’m good at climbing,” Quinn whispered. “I could climb along the roof.”

“Do you know how to knock someone out?” Jade asked.

“I’m sure it can’t be that hard.”

Quinn regretted saying anything as soon as she swung herself into the hold, her dagger snug in her belt. There were a lot fewer handholds than she had hoped for. But she nimbly made her way, slowly and trying to stay as close to the ceiling as she could.

Fortunately, the hold was dimly lit and had a fairly high ceiling.

The cells were at the far end of the hold and Quinn could see Florian walking in front of them. She could pick out a few members of the Crew in the cells but could not see Jax.

As she neared them, she only moved when Florian had his back to her, hoping that he would be less likely to see her if she stayed still. Sheela spotted her when she reached the first cell. Her eyes widened and then she quickly looked down to not draw any attention to her.

Florian was walking back towards her and Quinn froze. If there was any time he would see her, it would be now. She would be fine as long as he did not look up.

Sheela realized this as well, so she spoke up. “Hey, Florian, how does your father justify working with Harriet and his whole innocent ‘I-did-nothing-wrong’ thing?”

Florian stopped in front of her cell, just a little too far for Quinn to be able to reach. She inched farther as he spoke. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” She was almost there. “She is merely a means to an end.”

 _Wham!_ Quinn whacked Florian over the head with the butt of her dagger with as much force as she could muster from her position, and to her relief, he crumpled to the ground. Quinn grinned and dropped to the ground gracefully. She fumbled through Florian’s pockets until she found the keys and quickly unlocked the cell doors.

Nia, Nabil, Hugo and Jade, seeing the coast was clear, came down quietly.

“Where’s Jax?” Jade asked.

“They have him up in his cabin,” Cai said.

Quinn felt a little disappointed. She had hoped that Jax had seen what she had done. She found a part of herself wanting to impress him.

They all looked a little beat up, bruises and cuts here and here, but not terrible. Except for Seamus, who leant against Blake and held his hand to his gut, his shirt soaked with blood.

Quinn approached him in concern, but Blake stepped in front of her. “What do you want?”

“I know how to treat wounds,” she said. “I just want to help.” It was a bit of an exaggeration. Quinn had taken first aid classes – they were part of the training given to all Sherwood kids.

Blake looked at her for a long moment, but finally his concern won over his mistrust.

“You need to lay him down,” Quinn said. “And I need bandages or just strips of cloth, and alcohol if you have any, otherwise just water.”

Blake looked at the other Sailors. “Well,” he said. “Get to it, quietly.”

They scrambled off quietly, while the others prepared for their attack. Blake laid Seamus down carefully on the ground. Quinn knelt beside him and Blake did the same. Holding Seamus’ free hand.

Hugo returned with some scraps of cloth and Nabil with a bottle of rum. “Do you need help?” Nabil asked when he handed it to her.

Quinn shook her head. “You can join the others.” She carefully peeled Seamus’ shirt from the wound. It was not bleeding very much anymore, which was a good sign. As she cleaned the blood from around it, she said, “You can go too, Blake. I’ve got this.”

“And if the fighting moves down here, you’ll be Seamus’ only defence. I don’t think so.”

Quinn glanced up at him, then continued her work, smiling a little to herself.

•••

About fifteen minutes later, after sounds of a skirmish abovedecks, footsteps sounded on the steps. Blake immediately stood, jumping in front of them, brandishing his sword, but it was Jax who appeared.

He looked a little worse for wear, but not too injured, judging by the spring in his step. He looked at their odd trio with amusement.

As he approached, he nodded in greeting to Blake, clapping his shoulder. Then he knelt on the other side of Seamus. “So,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were good at this?”

“I, uh,” Quinn said. “I didn’t think I could be of a whole lot of help because I don’t have a lot of experience.” She looked at him meaningfully and he nodded.

“Well, you’re going to get more experience. The Crew needs a ship’s surgeon and you’ll do nicely,” he said, touching her arm briefly. “Also, good job getting everyone here, you’re well on the way to proving yourself.”

Quinn smiled for a few seconds too long after Jax had left and quickly focused on her task at hand. This was _really_ not the time to catch feelings.


	8. Eight | The Gangs & the Parents

“Hey, Jukes,” Sheela said one evening after dinner, as they all hung out on deck. “Can you take Quinn out scouting with you? Show her how it’s done?”

Quinn looked over at Jukes with a nervous smile. She knew that they had only fought her because it was part of her test, but still felt a little nervous around them. Being choked out by someone in a first interaction does tend to cloud one’s judgment a bit.

“Sure,” Jukes said. “I was just going to head out.” They jerked their head, gesturing for Quinn to follow.

Quinn looked back at the other sailors. “See you guys later,” she said before quickly following them out into the night-time city.

“Scouting is first and foremost a way of thinking,” Jukes said as they walked down the dark alleys. “Even though I go on scouting-specific outings like this, I am always on the lookout for new information.” They looked over at Quinn. “You should be too.”

They walked the streets and alleyways of the Isle, casually watching people going about their business. Kids scampered in small groups, weaving through the adults with ease. They passed the Defiant Doom’s headquarters, where a few figures sat on the front steps.

“What’s up, Tuka?” Jukes said, to a guy in gold leather and dark coiled hair tied up in a bandana. “Anything interesting going on?”

He shrugged. “Not really, right Willow?” he asked the girl beside him, whose skin was green and wore her dark hair in a long braid down her back.

“Nah,” she said. “Everyone’s pretty chill tonight.”

Jukes nodded, business-like tone softening into one more casual. “So, when’s the next party, Tuka?”

Tuka grinned. “You know you’ll be the first to know when we have the next one.” He focused his gaze on Quinn. “Is this the new one?”

“Quinn,” Quinn said with a nod.

“I hear the Innocents aren’t fond of you,” he said. “Stole a dagger, thwarted an attack.” He looked her up and down. “Too bad you didn’t join us.”

Quinn smiled, thinking about how she stood in the alley to the left of here a few days ago and very nearly did just that.

“Good thing we’re allies, then,” Jukes said with a smile.

“Of course,” he said, returning the smile. “And you’re more than welcome to any rave in the future, Quinn.”

Quinn nodded her thanks and she and Jukes walked on.

“You don’t trust each other,” Quinn observed.

“The Defiant Doom is the smallest gang, so they need the alliance,” Jukes explained. “But really, it’s best for us to keep a good relationship with them because you don’t want Tuka as your enemy.”

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Once they had prowled around the city, Jukes led Quinn up to their favourite vantage point, the roof of a largely abandoned building at the centre of the island. From there, they could see the whole island.

“As you do this more, you’ll learn people’s habits, places they visit often, etcetera,” Jukes told her. “Once you know these things, you’ll notice when people diverge from their habits.” They looked at Quinn. “You’re decent at reading people, so you’ll catch on.”

Quinn nodded smiling. “That’s good to hear.”

Quinn began to look forward to the evenings she spent with Jukes. They were a comforting presence, full of information and did not seem to tire or become suspicious of Quinn’s many questions. Quinn realized that she was probably coming across incredibly naïve and ignorance, but at least that did fit with the homeschooled cover story.

•••

Quinn gradually learned the basics of Isle politics, gaining tidbits of knowledge from conversation, and then eventually asking Jukes to fill in the parts she did not understand.

There were six major gangs on the Isle, of varying sizes and varying antagonisms with one another.

Maleficent was the clear power. She and her associates controlled the docks on the northeast side of the island, and thus all the shipments of food and supplies from Auradon. She made deals with everyone else for the supplies. Her own daughter was too young for gang activity, even by Isle standards, and so she had other young fighters under her. Doctor Facilier was her most loyal follower, as well as the Duke of Weselton, Shan Yu and Yzma, and almost all of their children. They were not the most numerous, but Maleficent also had the goblins who ran the docks on her side.

The Socialites and the Innocents were different from the others in that they were run by the villains themselves, not the villains’ children. The girls in these gangs were also not taught to fight but expected to behave like ladies – a difficult thing on the Isle. Due to these similarities, they often worked together.

The Socialites were a smaller gang, consisting only of Lady Tremaine, her daughters and grandchildren and Mother Gothel and her children.

The Innocents were unique in themselves in that they believed they were not villains at all. Led by Judge Frollo, among their ranks were Prince John (still determined to style himself King John), the Sheriff of Nottingham, the Guy of Gisborne, Clayton, and Governor Ratcliffe, and their children. Quinn noted quickly that they had all been upholders of an unjust status quo in their stories and thus almost disliked them more.

They were also the least respected of the gangs. Everybody else on the Isle not only accepted in their villainy but were proud of it; they revelled in it. The Innocents, to them, seemed to be either in denial, or cowards, or both.

Then there was the Queens, founded by Genevieve and Georgitte, daughters of Gaston. They got sick of their father’s sexism and left the Innocents after Georgitte came out as trans. Larue, daughter of LeFou soon followed, as well as Nikki Nottingham and Gwen Gisborne, who had been secretly dating and were tired of their stifling parents. The only villains involved were the Stabbington Brothers, who were only honorary members because they were not bigoted and their daughters were members. Quinn feared them the most, still shuddering to remember her first conflict with whom she now knew were Skyla and Scarlett Stabbington.

The Defiant Doom was the smallest gang, consisting of only Tukafotana, son of Rumpelstiltskin, the three children of the Wicked Witch of the West, and the two daughters of Yzma who had left Maleficent’s crew. They only remained relevant because Tuka could talk himself out of nearly everything and they were the best at parties. That, and their truce/almost-alliance with the Crew.

And then, of course, there was the Crew, comprised of the children of the original crew of the Jolly Roger: Mr. Smee, Cecco, Cookson, Bill Jukes, Noodler, and Captain Hook, as well as the sons of Prince Hans. Their main turf was the docks on the southeast side of the island, where the shop was, but they would move the Jolly Roger around the shallows of the island often.

Of course, not every single villain or VK was part of a gang, but many made deals for protection or supplies with the most powerful gang in the area. And members from different gangs would associate all the time, from bumping into each other at the coffee shop to inviting them to all-night raves.

•••

It was after dinner on the Jolly Roger, and the Crew hung out on the deck. Quinn sat with the other sailors on barrels on the main deck, repairing sails. As the sun began to set, Harper ran up to them. “We’ve gotta get going; Dad wants us home before dark.”

Hugo nodded. “I’ll be right there.” His whole demeanour changed, just as it always did when he had to go home.

“You really gotta move out, live here,” Clove said in a knowing tone that Quinn did not quite understand.

“Even if I did, Harper’d be alone at home, with him,” Hugo said with uncharacteristic softness for his little brother. “I can’t do that.”

After some sympathetic looks from the others, he stood to leave.

Later, when Jax joined Quinn at the prow, Quinn said, “No one’s parents ever come ‘round, even though most of the Crew live here full-time. Are they that neglectful?”

“They’re not allowed to come,” Jax said. “It’s part of the deal. I give their kids training and a gang, and they stay away. If anyone wants to see their parents, they can visit them. I made the same deal with my father. Jade has stayed with me, not him, since I became captain.”

Quinn looked over at him.

“He’s a cruel, controlling man,” Jax said. “It’s bad enough now, trying to live up to his standards of success. Living with him was a constant struggle, fight for survival; it was a game to him.”

“Jax, that’s terrible,” Quinn said quietly, placing a hand on his arm.

He did not brush away her touch as she thought he would.

“And the other parents are the same?” she asked after a moment.

Jax just nodded.

Taking a risk, Quinn wrapped him in a hug, holding him tightly. After a moment’s hesitation, he hugged her back. Jax took a few shuddering breaths as they stood there. When he pulled away, he shook his head slightly, smiling wryly.

“What?” Quinn asked, feeling a smile return to her face.

“You’re just... unexpected,” he said. Before turning to leave, he kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you.”

Quinn was left at the prow, feeling a few conflicting things at once.

For one, she was furious and sad about the whole situation. When she came to the Isle, she knew it was populated solely by villains and their children. But she had not thought about how these villains would parent their children. It had simply not occurred to her that they might not want the best for them.

She also – guiltily – felt a little exhilarated in Jax’s expression of interest in her. The feeling of his lips on her cheek lingered and she could not help but hope that maybe something more could happen between them.

•••

One evening, Quinn found herself sitting up in the rigging, looking out to the lights of Auradon and thinking about Sherwood. She wondered what the other Sherwood kids thought about her disappearance. She had grown a bit distant from them in the last year of school since they had all graduated before her.

Her cynicism about Auradon had grown out of their jokes about silly rules. But when they were all there, she had a group of people to roll her eyes with; it had been more fun to flout the rules a bit. Not that they had not had serious discussions about culture and performative goodness, but without anyone to discuss these things with, Quinn had been left to stew about them alone.

She could not help but wonder what they would think if they saw her here. Though one of the youngest of the group, she had generally been one of the more outspoken. Would they be surprised?

And, of course, she thought about Dad. About him sitting at home, drinking tea or reading in front of the fire. She hoped he got out enough, hung out with Robin and Will and the other Merry Men. She had always worried about him being lonely when she was away at school, but now she was not coming home every few weekends.

She heard the ropes creak and turned to see Jax climbing up to where she was perched. She smiled at him as he sat down beside her.

“You alright?” he asked. “You seem a bit more subdued than normal.”

“Are you telling me I’m boring?” Quinn asked with mock indignation.

“I would never deign to imply such a thing,” Jax said, grinning.

They smiled at each other for a moment before looking out at the lights of the mainland.

“Why did you want me to join your gang?” Quinn asked.

“Like I said, crew loyalty.”

“Loyalty only runs so deep here. What’s the real reason?”

He turned to her, a slightly amused expression on his face. “I was impressed. How long had you been on the Isle before you met me?”

“A little more than a day.”

He nodded. “And you were still alive.” He shrugged, grinning. “That’s why I wanted you to join.” He paused. “But that can’t be what’s bothering you.” He bumped her shoulder lightly. “What’s up?”

Quinn pursed her lips. “I just miss my Dad,” she said, then quickly added. “Like, my adoptive dad in Auradon, not my father.”

Jax nodded, but said nothing, prodding her to keep talking.

“I know that you guys here don’t have the best home situations, but my dad is actually really great.”

“What was your life like in Auradon?” he asked. “Other than the shitty royals at school.”

Quinn smiled. “Outside of school, it was pretty great. My dad’s Little John, one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men.”

“Ah, so that’s why you dislike the Innocents.”

“Yeah,” Quinn said. “But since the Merry Men aren’t royalty and they were basically a gang of thieves – for a good cause, of course, but criminals nonetheless – we have sort of a weird place in Auradon. So Sherwood Forest, where I grew up, was a bit different from the rest of Auradon.”

Jax listened intently as Quinn told him all about growing up in the forest, running alongside the other Sherwood kids, knowing each hidden path through the trees like the back of her hand. The archery and quarterstaff lessons in the village green where at night there would be dances, with music and story-telling. Dad teaching her how to slip through the forest unseen and unheard and declaring her an official member of the Merry Men when she split an arrow for the first time at age fifteen.

When she was finished, Jax looked at her strangely. “If you had all that, why did you leave?”

The question, so direct, caught Quinn off-guard. “I didn’t always know about my true parentage. Dad only told me pretty recently. I guess it just kind of amplified everything I already hated about school and Auradonian culture in general. It’s really important, over there, who your parents are; it dictates who you will be. That even extended to Sherwood. Mark was always automatically the leader because his dad is Robin Hood. And I think part of the reason they listened to me as much as they did was that Little John was Robin’s second-in-command.” Quinn sighed. “So when I found out that I wasn’t a hero kid, I… There’s this idea we’re always taught at school, that all villains are innately evil, they’re just born that way. And I guess that’s how they justify punishing all the VKs for their parents’ crimes. So, I thought…” she trailed off.

“You thought that you belonged here. That you’d fit in better with other VKs,” Jax finished.

They were quiet for a long while until Jax spoke again. “Do you regret coming here?” His voice was gentle, almost cautious.

Quinn looked over at him, noticing how hope bloomed over his features. “No,” she said firmly. “Perhaps my decision to come here was a bit reckless, but I am happy now that I’m here. I like it here. I like the people, the exhilaration, the way people are valued for their skills, not their parents, I like.” she hesitated for a moment. “…you.”

Jax grinned. “That’s good, ‘cause I like you too.” He winked at her before heading back down.


	9. Nine | Flings

Another part of being in the Crew was working at the shop. One day, when Quinn came into the shop for her shift, she found Jax, Saoirse, and Seamus in a heated argument with two people she did not recognize.

“…gotta be a better way we can settle this,” Jax said, managing a calm voice even though Quinn could see his frustration.

“We’ve had to make some new considerations, move some things around,” said a young woman with short dark hair and chestnut skin.

“What kind of considerations, Fabienne?” Seamus demanded. “We have not broken any of the agreements we made with Maleficent. She has no reason to change the terms.”

“Maleficent needs no reason to change the terms,” Fabienne said, haughtily.

“Yes, she can do as she pleases,” piped up the smaller redhaired girl beside her.

“Hush, Winnie,” Fabienne said. “You’re here to observe how negotiations work.”

“This is hardly a negotiation,” Saoirse muttered.

“So, what are the new terms?” Jax asked.

“You pay 75% of full price for supplies, stay off the shipping docks and not attack Maleficent’s castle or any of her associates or allies, and we won’t attack you either.”

Jax’s jaw clenched. “That’s hardly a fair deal.”

“Would you rather pay full price?” Fabienne asked. “And start a war between us?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Very well, it seems I have no choice.” He smiled stiffly and held out his hand. “It’s a deal.”

Fabienne shook his hand firmly, a triumphant look on her face. With a nod at Saoirse and Seamus, she and Winne turned to leave. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Neither spared half a glance for Quinn, which she was grateful for because Fabienne emulated Maleficent to a nearly uncanny degree. And while a lot of the VKs here were alright, the old footage of Maleficent shown to them at Auradon Prep still haunted her.

Jax leant against the counter looking frustrated and exhausted, brow furrowed. “Alright, Seamus, go to Tuka, see if the Defiant Doom also had a change in agreement. Try and negotiate supplies through our alliance. Saoirse, look at the numbers and rationing. Send Cyrus here to plan with me. And have Jukes go out scouting so we know how exactly Maleficent has moved things around.”

They nodded and quickly left the shop. Quinn quietly approached the counter, hanging her jacket on the coat rack. Jax looked up at her, his expression softening into very nearly a smile.

“And, so, your education on the inner workings of the Isle continues,” he said.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Quinn asked.

“Not unless they taught you about how to negotiate with unreasonable magic-less witches at your princess school,” he said.

“I’m afraid not,” Quinn said.

He nodded. “Didn’t think so,” They stood in silence for a moment. “But I could use someone to brainstorm with until Cyrus gets here.”

Quinn sat on the counter beside him. “So Maleficent controls the docks,” she said slowly. “And so, although she may not have more people has more negotiating power.”

Jax nodded, watching her with interest.

“The only way to even the scales is with some kind of leverage or new variable between us and Maleficent.”

She heard Jax inhale sharply and looked over at him. A grin was growing over his face. He hopped off the counter and faced her. “Quinn, you are a genius.” He kissed her cheek quickly and hurried out of the store.

For a moment, Quinn sat frozen on the counter, biting her lip to stifle the wide grin beaming over her features. “No problem,” she whispered.

•••

When her shift ended a few hours later, it was Corinna who came to take her place instead of her brother.

“Where’s Cai?” Quinn asked.

“Apparently something important’s happening,” the little Powder Monkey said. “Everyone has to report to the Jolly Roger immediately.”

Quinn nodded and shrugged on her jacket as she headed out the door. Arriving on the Jolly Roger, the meeting had just ended belowdecks. In the center of the space was a large table with a map depicting the entire island with figures representing important players in the various gangs.

Jax turned and saw her. “Did no one call Quinn for the meeting?” he demanded.

No one said anything.

He sighed. “Alright, Quinn you’re with me, we’ll brief you as we go.”

Everyone headed out in small groups of two or three. Jax, Cai, and Hugo stayed behind for a few minutes.

“So, what’s the plan?” Quinn asked Hugo.

“Our group is going to sneak into Maleficent’s castle and kidnap Mal for leverage over her,” he said quickly.

“And what’s everyone else doing?”

“The duos are watching the Faciliers, Weseltons, and Shan Yu’s kids,” he said. “Cyrus, Jukes, and Blake I don’t know – their mission is secret; I’m pretty sure only Jax and Saoirse know.

Quinn nodded.

“Alright, guys,” Jax said and they all gathered around him. “Everyone else has had enough time to get into position, time for us to go.”

They walked casually through the city, staying mostly in the shadows, but not so much to seem suspicious. They passed Seamus and Nia, standing across the street from the Weseltons. Jax nodded discretely at them as they continued.

“What about Yzma’s kids?” she whispered to Hugo. “Who’s watching them?”

“Only Yoyotli and Ynes are with Maleficent,” he explained. “Yolanda and Yesenia are with Defiant Doom and they agreed to keep them occupied tonight.”

They neared Maleficent’s castle, looming over the rest of the city like a bad omen. In addition to its size, its gothic architecture set it apart from the ramshackle urban jungle of the rest of the Isle.

The four crouched behind a pile of empty crates near the main entrance. A troll stood on either side of the huge doors.

“We’re going through the front door?” Quinn whispered.

“All the others lead to a maze of passages,” Jax whispered. “We’d never find our way out.”

They watched the trolls a few moments more. They did not patrol back and forth, just stood still.

“Quinn,” Jax said. “If I get you up to that ledge,” he pointed at one about eight feet up. “Can you climb up to the window?”

Quinn looked up the wall, noting where bricks stuck out. The window was about twelve feet up. Trees were more her thing, but… “Yeah,” she said.

“While Cai and Hugo distract the guards, you climb up there and let this rope down. Cai and I will climb up. Once we’re all inside, you,” he turned to Hugo. “run and help where it’s needed.”

Hugo stepped out into the street and walked toward the trolls. “Good evening, gentlemen!” he called pompously. “I was hoping to ask a few questions.” He beamed up at them. “Do you enjoy working for Maleficent?” he asked. “I mean, I know there’s not a great job market for. Ogres? Are you ogres? Or, tall dwarves?”

Quinn looked over at Jax and Cai. This was the plan?

“He can be very annoying when he wants to be,” Cai said.

It seemed to be working too. Quinn saw how their jaws clenched as they both turned to look at him. Cai slipped from behind the crates and in the shadows of the street. He did a spectacularly bad job sneaking behind the trolls and was easily spotted. A troll spotted him, grabbed his arm and shoved him over to where Hugo was still chatting away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, no,” Cai gasped melodramatically.

Jax nodded at Quinn and they snuck out behind the trolls while they focused on Cai and Hugo. Rope slung over her shoulder, Quinn looked up at the wall. Its sheerness was much more daunting up close.

Jax knelt and laced his fingers together for Quinn to step on. Lifted up, she got a firm grip on the ledge with both hands and began to scramble up as quickly as possible. She was briefly reminded of the tree climbing races they used to have in Sherwood. She had never been the fastest – Ada Dale and her lanky limbs could climb absurdly fast – but she had been decently good. It was often considered the least practical of all their games but was coming to good use now.

She reached the window with a sigh of relief and tumbled inside. It was a very bare small room, only a table and a fireplace inside. But the table looked heavy and Quinn quickly tied the rope to it. Running back to the window, she saw Hugo had annoyed the trolls so much that they were slashing their spears at him. He jumped and ducked out of the way, still taunting them. She let the rope down the wall to Jax, who was watching the encounter with a slight grin. Just as he began to climb, Hugo managed to steal a hat right off of one of the trolls’ heads.

“Hey!” he boomed as Hugo scampered further down the street. The troll charged for him, calling for the other to follow. With a grin, Hugo sprinted down the street, trolls in hot pursuit.

When Jax reached the top, he was laughing. “Nothing like talking to Hugo to get you in a murderous rage.”

They both looked out the window, where Cai was starting to climb the rope. Quinn noticed a girl approaching the castle.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Shit,” Jax said. “Yoyotli’s the runner, she warns Maleficent’s people when she’s attacked.”

The girl stopped in front of the castle, having spotted them. Then she turned and ran back in the direction she had come from.

“Cai!” Jax called down to him. “Yoyo’s spotted us, make sure she doesn’t get to the others!”

Cai nodded and quickly scrambled down.

“We’ve got to hurry now,” Jax said and they ran out the wooden door into the dark corridor.

If the main entrance was the most straightforward way, Quinn would hate to see the maze-like parts. The corridor curved and split constantly, but Jax seemed to know the way. In a few minutes, they stopped in front of a wooden door, spray painted green and purple. The main design was _Keep out!_ in all caps.

Jax motioned for them to be quiet as he carefully opened the door. The room was fairly dark, but Quinn could make out the shapes of the furniture and the designs covering the walls. She was a talented artist. 

Then she noticed that the bed was empty.

“Didn’t you read the sign?” a voice asked, and Quinn was suddenly tackled from the side and fell to the ground. She caught a glimpse of purple hair as she struggled to get her off. She managed to shove the girl away, and quickly rose to her feet, dagger out.

“Wait, you’re just a kid,” Quinn said, staring at the girl who could not be more than ten or eleven.

“Yeah? What’s your point?” she said. “I could still take both of you.” She charged at Quinn, but before she was withing reach, Jax had stepped behind her and grabbed her arms. Mal struggled but it was useless, and she glared at them.

“You didn’t say she was a little kid,” Quinn whispered to Jax. Mal was sitting tied to a chair across the room.

“We’re not going to hurt her,” Jax said. “When Maleficent gives us a better deal, we’ll let her go.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Quinn asked, even quieter so Mal did not hear her. “Villains don’t seem to be too fond of their kids.”

“No, but they do need their kids,” Jax said. “They’re heirs, means to ends, whatever.”

Quinn sighed. “Alright. What was your plan for getting her out of here, because she definitely isn’t going to come quietly.”

Jax walked over to her and knocked her head with the butt of his dagger.

“What the hell!” Quinn exclaimed. “You could have killed her.”

“She’s just unconscious,” he said. “She’ll be fine.”

Mal carried between them, they had nearly reached the little room again, when they heard running footsteps. They echoed in the stone halls so much that it was impossibly to know where they were coming from. They ran faster, glancing behind but not seeing anything.

A boy and a girl, both with red hair, suddenly stepped out into their path.

“Willa, Wesley,” Jax said, smiling winningly. “What can we do for you?”

“I think we’ll take that off your hands,” Willa said.

Quinn looked over at Jax to see how they were going to get out of this. She could see his mind going over the variables of the situations. “Hold this,” he said, letting go of Mal so all her weight was on Quinn. He drew his sword and charged at the Weseltons.

Quinn realized that she had never seen Jax really fight before, only in training. Like every other move he made, it was graceful, effortless. He made it seem almost elegant. And since she had some training, she could appreciate it more. At no point was he unaware of his opponent’s movements, at no point was there an opening for them to exploit.

She understood even more how he was captain. Not only could he explain strategies and plan attacks, but he was an active participant, the reason they could succeed. She remembered the something that Dad used to say, that a true king led his people into battle.

She was so mesmerized by Jax’s swordplay that she almost did not notice when Mal moved. Before she could do anything, the girl had slipped from her grasp and stolen the dagger from her belt. With it, she cut the rope binding her wrists and feet. Quinn unsheathed her sword.

Mal smiled sweetly. “We both know you’re not going to fight a little kid like me.”

Quinn hesitated. She was right. She did not want to fight a ten-year-old.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Mal ducked under her sword and barrelled into Jax, throwing him off balance. He managed not to fall but caught the elbow of Willa in the jaw.

Quinn rushed forward. They just had to make it to the little room and the door was only a few steps away. She sprinted and pounced on the back of Wesley, who stumbled under her weight, crashing into Willa. Quinn tumbled off his back, disoriented for a moment before Jax grabbed her hand and pulled her along the corridor. They stumbled into the room, slamming and barring the door behind them.

Jax ran to the window, looking out at the city. Quinn joined him. “What are you looking for?”

He pointed and Quinn followed his gaze. Flying from the main mast of the Jolly Roger was a green flag.

“We did it,” he said, out of breath.

“What?”

Jax lowered his voice, glancing over at the door. “This was all a big distraction,” he said. “the real mission was to make a secret entrance to the supply warehouse; that’s what Cyrus, Jukes and Blake were doing. That flag means they were successful.”

“So we have food and supplies?” Quinn asked, a smile spreading over her features.

He grinned. “We have access to all the supplies we need.”

The moment was interrupted by a loud crash. The door rattled on its hinges.

“Guess we’d better go,” Jax said. “Princesses first.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and started down the rope, Jax right behind her. They were halfway down when a louder crash told them the door had just been broken down. Willa and Wesley appeared at the window above them, wasting no time in climbing after them.

Jax and Quinn jumped the last few feet and sprinted into the dark streets.

•••

They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, hearing the pounding footsteps behind hem. Jax looked over at Quinn, his adrenaline-inspired grin mirroring hers. They turned into a narrow alleyway that twisted and turned between decrepit buildings.

Suddenly, he pulled them into a small alcove and they waited for the Weseltons chasing them to speed past. They stood very close to each other, Jax’s hand still gripping Quinn’s arm. They both were still out of breath from running and Quinn’s heart raced.

Quinn almost spoke but Jax gestured for her not to, as Willa and Wesley came past. Once they were gone, Quinn looked back up at Jax and found something in his eyes she had not seen before – or perhaps she had, but not with this intensity. He pulled her closer still and she inhaled sharply, unsure of what to do.

Then he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers and Quinn felt her heart hammering more than ever. It was not like it was entirely out of the blue. They had both quite clearly expressed interest over the past few weeks. What did surprise her was that he decided to do this now, in a chase situation.

What surprised her even more was that she quite liked the idea of doing this now.

Their chapped lips created a certain friction and Quinn could not help but think how wonderful it felt.

His hands, which had been on the small of her back, pulling her even closer to him, now moved to her waist as he pushed her backwards until she bumped into the wall behind her. Cautiously, Quinn slipped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his long hair.

Soon they had to break apart due to lack of air, and Quinn looked at Jax, slightly breathless, a smile involuntarily growing over her face. “Why…?”

He flashed her his nonchalant, mischievous grin. “Don’t overthink it.” After checking that the coast was clear, he motioned for her to follow him. Trying to collect her thoughts, Quinn hurried after him.

  * ••



By the time Quinn and Jax returned to the Jolly Roger, the party was in full swing. Everyone was laughing and speaking loudly over the blaring music, drinks in hand. At the centre of the deck was a table laden with bread, slightly overripe fruit, and other scraps from Auradon, presumably straight from the warehouse.

Jax quickly disappeared into the crowd with Saoirse and Cyrus, briefing them on what happened. Quinn found Nia, Nabil, Hugo, and Clove standing to the side and joined them.

“Lead the trolls on a good chase?” she asked Hugo.

He grinned. “Yup, I led them all around the Isle. Even went past the shipping docks and picked up a few more.” He looked over to where Jax stood in the corner speaking seriously with Saoirse and Cyrus. “So what happened? Why didn’t you get Mal?”

“I thought it was all a distraction,” Quinn said. “The goal wasn’t to kidnap her.”

“Saoirse told me that they’d hoped they could do both,” Clove said. “The warehouse was the priority but Mal as a hostage would have been a nice plus.”

“Well, anyway, Willa and Wesley showed up,” Quinn said.

Nabil looked over at Nia, who was quieter than usual. “You and Seamus were watching the Weseltons, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, they managed to slip by us somehow. We didn’t realize they’d gotten word of the attack until they were gone. Seamus told me to stay and watch Winnie and that he’d go warn you guys, but I guess he was too late.”

“Well, at least we got the warehouse,” Quinn said smiling, trying to cheer Nia up. “And that’s what we really needed.”

“Cheers to that,” Clove said, holding up their cup. They all touched cups and took a swig. Quinn’s face screwed up at the bitter sour taste and she tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a cough.

Hugo snorted.

“Have you never had beer before?” Nia asked.

Quinn blushed a little. “No, my dad was strict about that.”

Clove grinned. “Well then, tonight should be fun.”

Soon Cai appeared and pulled Clove into a dance. Then Corinna, the oldest of the Powder Monkeys, blushingly asked Nia if she wanted to dance and she agreed.

Quinn stood with the two guys for a few minutes before turning to them. “So, are you two gonna buck up and ask someone to dance?” she asked them.

They looked at her in surprise.

“Nah,” Hugo said, dismissively.

Nabil was quick to agree. “Yeah, dancing’s lame anyway.”

His foot tapping and Hugo’s slight swaying to the beat betrayed them.

Quinn rolled her eyes and stepped in front of them, holding out both hands. “Come on.”

In the dense tangle of bodies moving to the music, the three spun and turned, laughing and trying to shout-sing along. Jukes joined them for a moment before pulling Quinn away, so they were dancing together.

“I heard you did good,” they shouted over the music. “You and Jax work well together.”

 _Did she know? Was that a knowing smile?_ Quinn suddenly thought. Jukes did always seem to read her too well. She just nodded. “Yeah.”

Quinn had been trying not to think about the kiss – or, at least, not to overthink the kiss. She was prone to overthink things after they happened, especially reckless things. And a kiss in an alley with a pirate while being chased definitely counted as reckless.

So she let herself get lost in the music and the pounding bassline that she could feel in her bones and the rest of the Crew dancing around her. It was a kind of belonging – though much different than any one she had felt before.

Amid the slight chaos of limbs and torsos, Quinn caught sight of Jax, watching her with a slight smile. And she liked him. She really liked him. So she beamed at him – a type of smile only possible with the happiness that comes with loud music, friends and one and a half beers.

And as the crowd engulfed her again, she saw his lips curl into a different smile – more to himself than her. It was a soft smile, one that comes with a warm heart and tender eyes.

•••

While tipsy Quinn could avoid overthinking, sober Quinn had a harder time. Throughout their pickpocket training with Sheela, she could not help but let her mind drift back to Jax. It was not that she had any qualms about being with him, or that she was uncertain of either of their feelings.

But she did not know how all of that worked on the Isle. There were romantic relationships, but she had never heard anyone referred to as a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or partner, or even that they were dating. The only word that seemed to be used was ‘fling’.

VKs don’t date. Jukes told her this during a scouting mission that night. While the mission against Maleficent had guaranteed the Crew supplies, it did mean that she was likely to retaliate.

“Okay,” Quinn said. “Then what about Blake and Seamus?”

“They’re a fling,” they said.

“So it’s a short-term thing?”

“Not necessarily. It can last for a long time,” They turned to her. “It’s an alliance of sorts, but more than a regular one. You trust each other more and...” They grinned. “you get a little fun on the side.”

Quinn looked out again and shifted so she was sitting on the edge of the roof.

“You and Jax are a fling, aren’t you?” Jukes asked after a moment.

After a pause, Quinn said, “From what you described, I think so – or, nearly.” Quinn glanced over at them. “Is that good? Bad?”

“That depends,” they said, grinning a little. “How is he at kissing?”

Quinn snorted and shook her head, rolling her eyes as she looked out at the city again.

“That good, huh?” they said. “Well, then it’s good. As long as you’re enjoying it, it’s good.”

•••

Quinn was just heading to the guest cabin on the Jolly Roger where Seamus was staying temporarily so she could change his bandages when she heard arguing voices from inside.

“...don’t see how I could have prevented –” Jax exclaimed.

“If you had listened to my advice about a truce with them this wouldn’t have happened!” Seamus shouted.

“We can’t just bow our heads to some smaller gang just because they threaten to attack us,” Jax said.

“That smaller gang did attack us and nearly won too.”

“But they didn’t and no one was too badly injured.” Jax spotted Quinn in the doorway. “He’s well on his way to recovering, right?”

Quinn did not want to barge in on this, but perhaps her presence would calm the situation. She stepped into the room. “Yes, but you do need to rest a little longer.”

Seamus was looking better; he was less pale and, judging from the argument, getting his energy back. But he did not look happy. He eyed Jax angrily.

“We’ll, uh, talk later, Seamus,” said Jax, giving Quinn a nod before leaving the room.

Quinn set about removing the old bandages. They were really just strips of cloth that she had washed as best she could. The wound was looking good, no discolouring or other signs of infection. “I would recommend not exerting yourself too much – in shouting matches, for example – or you might pop your stitches,” she remarked.

“Yeah, well, he’s the reason I was wounded in the first place,” Seamus muttered, wincing a little.

Quinn said nothing and continued with her work. She did not know enough about the situation to comment, but she hoped that Jax was in the right here.

Fortunately, Seamus’ attitude got improved as he did, and Quinn heard no more arguments between them.

•••

The next day, when Quinn came into the shop for her shift, she smiled at Jax. “Horrible morning,” she said, cheerfully.

He grinned. “Catching on are you, princess?”

Quinn grinned in return as she tossed her coat onto the coatrack. “Don’t call me that.”

“As you wish, your highness,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

“Okay,” Quinn said, rolling her eyes at him. “I am nowhere near royalty.”

“Closest there is around here.”

She glanced around. “Are you sure you should be saying stuff like that?” She stepped towards him. “Isn’t it supposed to be a secret?”

Shrugging, he said, “I told them you were homeschooled, remember? The only other homeschooled VK is the daughter of the Evil Queen. They’d assume I was referring to her.”

“Why is she homeschooled?”

“Some spat with the all-powerful Maleficent,” he said in an exaggerated tone.

Quinn giggled and he raised his eyebrows at her.

“I’m working on the laugh, okay,” she said, pushing him lightly.

“Good, because that makes you sound,” he leaned in and whispered, “like a princess.”

She pushed him again, grinning. “Funny.”

As Quinn turned away, he grabbed her arm gently and she looked at him again. “You were out of it the past couple days,” he said. “What changed?”

After thinking about it for a second, she gave him her most mischievous grin. “I feel... bad.”

A grin spread over his features and he pulled her closer. “About damn time.”

•••

Quinn had never actually dated anyone before. She had kissed Winston, Will Scarlet’s son, when she was sixteen, but that had been about it.

She was willing to bet, however, that dating in Auradon and flings on the Isle were different. In Auradon, it was all chaste cheek kisses before going to class, hand-holding in the hallways, and maybe a make-out session under the bleachers. Boys and girls were magically prevented from visiting each other’s dorms after sundown, so if anything was happening, it had to be pretty sneaky. It was not that they were expressly told not to have sex, it was just kind of understood. Many kids got married not too long after high school anyway.

But on the Isle, everything was passionate, unashamed, and entangled in fight training – at least, that was what it was like with Jax. Sparring turned into making out and back again just as quickly. It certainly taught her to be on guard at all times, but also added an element of thrill and adrenaline to their time together.

And there was no judgement. Quinn had already walked into the room above the shop with the other sailors to find Cai and Clove or Blake and Seamus multiple times. The others had kind of rolled their eyes and turned to leave. So, when the same thing happened to her and Jax, she was not as embarrassed as she otherwise would have been.

Jukes found it all very amusing. “Of course, you two ended up together!”

“Was it that predictable?” Quinn asked. They both had the night off and were sitting at the bar.

“No, it’s that unpredictable,” she said. “Jax has never had a fling with anyone on the Crew before.”

“People have flings between gangs?” Quinn asked in surprise.

Jukes shrugged, taking a swig of her beer. “Not often, but it happens. People used to swear he was with Harriet, but now that we’ve actually seen her, she looks too old for him. He definitely had something with Francoise though. It didn’t last long because her dad, Frollo, found out, and was furious.” She laughed. “So I guess we just never knew what his type was. I mean, he also made out with Tuka once at a party, but I think that was just a one-time thing. Although,” she looked at Quinn. “Now that he’s with you, maybe we at least know his type in girls.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Francoise’s dad is the leader of the Innocents, and you were homeschooled, and you’re, you know, you,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You’re softer types.”

“What do you mean, soft?” Quinn said, defensively.

“It’s not always a bad thing,” Jukes reassured her. “Sheela’s soft too, and she’s great.” She grinned. “And, I mean, if Jax is into it…”

Quinn rolled her eyes and threw back the last of her beer.

“You know what’s another great thing about all this?” Jukes continued. “It drives Blake absolutely nuts. It’s all he talks about at home.” She lowered her voice to imitate Blake, “She’ll get special privileges. She’ll be sleeping in his cabin before we know it. And being with the newest recruit? As a leader, he should know better.” Jukes snorted. “And then Dad and I roll our eyes, cause, I mean, holy shit, how’s he supposed to have a fling if he has to make sure everything is fair between the Crew?”

Quinn felt herself blush slightly at the mention of Jax’s cabin. “So, what about you?” she asked, leaning back in her chair. “Any notable flings?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she said with a grin. “Cai, for a few months last year, before he was with Clove. I also kissed Cyrus once,” she mused. “and I know that was a bad idea, cause they’re brothers and all, but hopefully Cai doesn’t know. Also, Florian.”

“Francoise’s brother?”

“What can I say, the Innocents get around.”


	10. Ten | Captain Hook

“Did you guys have classes on curtseying?” Jax asked.

“What?” Quinn looked over at him. They were sitting on the counter in the shop. It was dark, the shop was closed, and they were passing a bottle of rum back and forth and were teetering on the edge between being tipsy and drunk.

“Did they teach you how to curtsey in your school in Auradon?”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “There wasn’t a whole class on it, but yes, we did. In ‘Court Manners.’”

Jax snorted. “What else did you learn in Court Manners?”

Handing the bottle back to Jax, Quinn leant back on her hands. “Most of the really dumb stuff was in the younger grades – walking with a book on your head and all that.” She mused. “Some weren’t all bad; I quite liked the dance classes.”

“That reminds me, you haven’t been to a rave yet, have you?”

“I don’t think we learned that kind of dancing.”

“Well,” Jax hopped off the counter, wobbled a bit, and turned to her. “Teach me.”

“You want to learn how to waltz?” Quinn asked incredulously.

“And then I will teach you how we dance here.” He held out his hands to her and when she took them, he pulled her off the counter into his arms. Quinn stayed there for a second longer than was necessary before stepping back.

“Very well,” she said and took his hand in hers. “Place your free hand on my waist.” As he did so, she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure we’re not supposed to be closer?” Jax asked with a smile, stepping in closer to her.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Quinn rolled her eyes again, pushing him back gently with a smile. “Now, the waltz goes in threes, so you step, step, and step together.” After some shuffling, Jax got the basics and soon they were step-step-togethering across the room.

Unprompted, Jax spun her, hand trailing around her waist as she turned. Once she faced him again, he held her much closer and reached out to the radio on the counter and a very irate jig began to play.

This dance was a fair bit easier to learn than the waltz. Jax, confident and smiling, led her around the room, pushing her into twirls and pulling her into dips.

Soon they were both breathless and laughing and Jax dipped her one last time and then pulled her up into a kiss. And Quinn realized that she had not had fun in a long time. Sure, fighting had an element of fun in it – but this was pure mostly-innocent fun.

The next song began to play, a slower one, and Quinn wrapped her hands around Jax’s neck and buried her head in his neck. Jax wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer as they swayed to the rhythm of the song.

“What type of dancing is this?” Jax said quietly beside her ear.

“Something we were definitely not allowed to do at school dances,” Quinn said with a smile.

•••

One day, after sparring with Blake, Quinn was reorganizing first aid kit. It was not much; just some bandages made of old rags, a bottle of whiskey, and a needle and thread. She had asked Cyrus if there was any medicine in the warehouse that Maleficent was keeping for herself, but he had told her that medicine was never sent to the Isle.

Slow, measured steps sounded in the hallway and a long shadow darkened the doorway.

“I heard there was a new recruit.” The voice was smooth, almost gentlemanly.

Quinn looked up and her heart skipped a beat, for there stood Captain James Hook, more terrifying than she could have imagined. She rose slowly, trying to keep any fear from her face. Captain Hook crossed the room, his walk much more dignified than Jax’s swagger. But they had the same piercing pale blue eyes.

“Quinn,” she said, with a curt nod. She was not sure how much respect the villains were supposed to be given, so quickly added, “Cap’n.”

“You’re a bit of a mystery, Miss-?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Just Quinn,” she said, trying to maintain this façade of confidence as long as she could. “And I find that a bit of mystery can be beneficial.”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. He studied her. “My, you seem very familiar. We haven’t met before, have we?”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Quinn said, conveying as little emotion as she could.

Captain Hook smiled an almost genuine smile. “I do hope you stay around a bit. The art of politeness seems to have escaped most of my son’s little... gang,” he said dismissively.

Quinn resisted the urge to defend Jax and nodded as a goodbye and quickly left the room, going downstairs into the shop.

Jade was just coming out of the back room. “Did someone come in?” she asked.

“Yeah, uh,” Quinn said, still trying to shake the nervousness away. “Your dad.”

She paled and almost dropped the crate she was carrying.

“Hey,” Quinn rushed forward, taking the crate from her trembling hands. “Are you alright?”

“He doesn’t usually show up unannounced,” she muttered. “I needed to go get Jax.” She rushed towards the door. “Mind the shop, okay, Quinn?”

Quinn nodded, still a little confused as Jade ran out the door.

A minute later, Jax burst through the door, out of breath, with Jade and Saoirse at his heels.

He looked almost afraid as he made eye contact with Quinn for a moment. “What did he say?” he asked, distracted and looking around quickly.

She shrugged. “Not much. Wanted to know who I was.”

His head jerked around, so he faced her again. Then he cleared his throat. “Saoirse, go up and stall him.” She nodded and took a breath before walking calmly up the stairs. He turned to Jade. “You know what to do. Stay away until I send someone to get you.” He squeezed her arm for a moment and gave her a meaningful look, jaw clenched. Once she had left, he turned to Quinn. “You didn’t tell him who you are, right?”

“Of course, no–”

“Right,” he interrupted. “otherwise, you’d probably be dead.”

“Wait, what?” Quinn asked. Everything was moving too quickly, and she did not understand what was going on.

He shook his head. “Just make sure to stay out of his way, okay?” He ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end more than usual.

Before he went up the stairs, he closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were hard and cold like his father’s.

“What was that all about?” Quinn asked Jax after his father had left.

“Not now, Quinn,” he said.

“Yes, now,” she demanded. “You’ve been not telling me something important ever since we met, and I need to know.”

He sighed and pulled her into the back room. That action in itself was not exactly new territory, they had slipped away into dark alcoves many times before, but this was clearly a different situation. Jax was pacing and looked worried – not as worried as he had when he found out that his father was in the shop, but worried nonetheless.

“Jax?” she asked quietly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Do you know how the villains were defeated?” Jax asked suddenly, turned away from her.

“Yeah, we learned about it in class, the Evil Queen fell down a ravine, Maleficent was killed by Prince Phillip, Lady Tremaine just kinda –”

“No, the final battle.”

“Final battle?”

Jax turned to Quinn. “When the villains were all brought back to be punished, or whatever, the heroes didn’t expect that they’d have the power to fight back, but they did. I don’t think it could be called a war, but they gave the heroes a run for their money.” He sat down on a crate and she sat beside him. “We were finally defeated because someone betrayed our plans.”

“Starkey,” she realized.

Jax nodded. “We never knew why he did it and he died soon afterwards, but.”

“It was because of me,” Quinn said. “He must have made some sort of deal with King Beast, that I would be raised in Auradon.”

They sat there in silence for a moment as Quinn processed this information.

“But,” Quinn said. “You realized this the day we met.” She looked back up at Jax. It was hard to see his expression in the dark of the room. “If you knew that my father was a traitor, why would you want me to join?”

“How many times are you going to ask why I recruited you?” Jax said, his voice turning back to its light, charming tone. “I might start to doubt my decision.”

“Seriously, Jax,” she said.

“It’s like I said before,” he said. “I was impressed. I saw potential.” He paused. “Plus, since you told me openly who your father was, you clearly had no idea about any of this.”

Quinn nodded. Dad had probably known this and would have told her if she had let him. Her father had wanted to give her a better life in Auradon, she supposed. But he likely didn’t realize what type of society Auradon would morph into. Beast and Belle had been good rulers in the beginning, from what she could tell. It was just that in a country in which the heroes were the elite, performative goodness was bound to become a problem.

“You alright?” he asked, hand resting on her knee.

“Yeah,” she said.


	11. Eleven | Rumours

As the weeks rolled by into months, Quinn began to get used to life on the Isle. More than get used to, she began to enjoy it, even the fighting.

Adrenaline rushes were not new to Quinn, but she had never before felt the rush of a fight, a life or death situation. And as her skill and confidence in combat grew, so did her enjoyment.

It was a regular night on the Jolly Roger. Quinn and Jax sat in his cabin, playing their nearly-nightly game of chess.

“I can’t believe you said the first night we played that you weren’t very good,” Jax said surveilling the board before moving his knight. “We’re evenly matched.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m very good,” Quinn said with a smile. “Perhaps you are also not very good.” She moved her rook, hesitating a moment before letting it go.

He looked at her and then at the board with a smirk as though she had just fallen into his trap. However, as she had learned throughout their many games together, this confidence was merely another one of his strategies, meant to make you question your moves. He slid his bishop out of the way of her rook.

The game continued as it usually did, evenly matched until one pulled ahead. Tonight, it was Quinn. She squinted at the board before slowly sliding her queen over one space. “Checkmate, if I’m not mistaken.”

Jax regarded the board, then sighed, knocking his king over. He smiled. “It seems you’ve bested me; for the fourth time this week too.”

Quinn grinned. “I promise not to tell anyone.”

“Are you kidding?” Jax stood up and stepped behind Quinn, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “I’m the lucky guy who’s with someone as smart as you. Feel free to tell anyone.” He kissed the top of her head. “Rematch?”

Quinn turned in her seat, looking up at him. “I should probably turn in,” she said. “Early watch.”

Jax nodded and Quinn stood up from her seat. She kissed him lightly. “Goodnight, Jax,”

“Goodnight,” he murmured.

She turned to leave, but just as she had her hand on the doorknob, Jax said, “Unless.” Quinn turned. “Unless you want to stay the night.” His voice was soft. In his eyes, Quinn could see a lot of her own feelings reflected: uncertainty, tenderness, want.

She swallowed. Everything in her wanted to overthink, to overanalyze. But her heart, beginning to race, wanted none of that. “Alright,” she said quietly, nodding. “Yeah.”

In two steps, Jax was in front of her, his soft lips on hers. Quinn tossed off her jacket before curling her fingers into Jax’s hair. It was nothing like the first kiss or the many since, all adrenaline and lust, it was tender and warm and thorough. Jax pressed her against the wall gently and Quinn’s hands ran down his chest to the waistband of his pants, where she carefully began pulling his tucked shirt out. Jax’s hands had already been exploring under her top, so when they broke apart momentarily, both shirts were shucked and abandoned.

Pieces of clothing dropped around their feet as they slowly moved towards the bed. Quinn felt a gentle cool breeze waft over her newly exposed skin.

When the backs of her knees hit the bed, Quinn lost her balance and tumbled backwards. She laughed, thinking how incredibly unromantic this was. Then she looked up at Jax, who gazed down at her, eyes raking over every curve of her body. Quinn resisted the urge to cover up.

Jax smiled to himself. “Damn.”

Quinn blushed, rolling her eyes, and slid back to prop herself up on her elbows by the pillows. She let herself really look at Jax, the lean muscle from his years of fighting – and the many scars. Every move he made was purposeful, graceful.

“Have you ever –?” he asked as he climbed onto the bed.

Quinn shook her head.

“Me neither,’ he said quietly.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?” She did not mean to sound so surprised.

Jax smiled. “Really.”

“Well, I hope you at least have decent sex ed here,” Quinn said. “Wait, you have protection, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re villainous, not medieval.”

Their hands were softer on each other now, tender and probing. Bodies flush and joined, skin on skin and lips never far from each other. It was sweet and raw and messy. And it was everything.

They came undone in each other’s arms, graceless and sweaty, pants tickling skin.

When Jax rolled to the side, Quinn peppered his neck and chest with light kisses. He held her close as their heartbeats slowed back to normal.

“Are you alright?” Jax asked, eyebrows scrunching together. “Cause I know, for girls it can –”

“I’m fine,” Quinn said with a soft smile. She smoothed the wrinkles between his eyebrows and kissed the spot gently.

He pulled her closer for a kiss, firm and prolonged and trustworthy. And although Quinn knew they both were not quite ready for any sweeping statements about affection or love, she knew what he meant. And she kissed back with a fierceness to show it.

Unable to fall asleep immediately, Quinn watched as Jax drifted off. His face softened and the meagre light dusted his features with a golden glow. He was beautiful, he really was. And like this, asleep, he looked to be truly without a care in the world. His outside persona of cool confidence was but a poor reflection, a copy, of this.

In the pit of her stomach, Quinn knew that no one on this island could ever be even near carefree – there was too much to worry about: gangs, alliances, and fighting, not to mention all of the family issues.

She tried to picture him in Sherwood, surrounded by nature, actually being able to see the stars. She imagined him laughing as they climbed trees and swam in the river. It was a lovely image, filled with hypothetical happiness, but it could simply never be. VKs would never be allowed in Auradon, and like it or not, she was stuck here.

And she did like it here. A lot. She had Jax and Jukes and Sheela and everyone else. She had the feeling of accomplishment and pride calling herself a member of the Crew. And she had an outlet for all the pent-up frustration she had before.

And yet. Her mind would wander back to the tall oaks of Sherwood Forest; there wasn’t a scrap of green on this island and she was starting to forget the feeling of grass under bare feet and bark as you pulled yourself higher into the trees.

But she was stuck here, and – as she looked back at Jax’s sleeping face – it was far from the worst place to be stuck in.

•••

It was Jukes who first heard the rumour, they came back to the ship one evening looking troubled. Quinn, who was sitting on the railing with Jax, called to them. “You alright, Jukes?”

Jukes looked over at them, hesitated, then said, “I just. Heard something at the bar, but I don’t know if it’s true.”

Jax’s expression hardened, switching into his captain’s role. “What did you hear?”

“Someone said they heard that someone on the Crew is negotiating some secret deal with Maleficent,” they said cautiously.

Jax’s brow furrowed and he hopped off the railing onto the deck, Quinn close behind.

“But it’s just a rumour?” Quinn asked quickly.

“Yes, for now,” Jukes looked over at Jax, whose gaze had gotten a bit distant. “I’ll keep a lookout in case anything new comes up.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Jukes.”

They nodded shortly and walked away. Quinn turned to Jax. “You don’t think it’s true, do you?”

He pursed his lips. “I hope not.” He sighed. “I’m sure it’s just fabricated nonsense to sow distrust within the Crew,” he said but did not entirely sound like he meant it.

Quinn smiled softly and leant her head on his shoulder. “They all know you’re a good captain, Jax.”

•••

The next day, after a shift at the shop, Quinn rushed into the lower deck of the Jolly Roger, determined not to be late for this meeting. She found what looked to be the entire Crew standing around, waiting for something.

Since no one reacted to her arrival, they clearly were not waiting for her, so Quinn joined the other Sailors standing together in the corner

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Hugo shrugged. “Apparently Seamus called an urgent meeting, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”

“That’s...” Quinn started.

“Unlike him?” Nia said. “Yeah.”

They stood around for a few more minutes. Quinn looked over with Jax, who stood with Cyrus and Sheela, but he looked just as confused as everyone else.

Finally, there were footsteps on the steps and Seamus descended, looking much smugger and more confident than usual. “Hello, all,” he said with a smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

Jax walked towards him a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “Seamus, what the hell is this all about? I thought it was urgent.”

“Oh, it is,” Seamus said, walking past him to the head of the map table. “I am putting myself in the running for captain.”

“We don’t have another election for two years,” Saoirse snapped. “Don’t be a fool.”

“Dear sister,” he said. “we both know there’s another way a new captain can be instituted.”

Everyone in the room shifted, some angrily, some uncomfortably. Blake stepped forward. “Seamus,” he said, worried.

“Well then,” Jax said, his voice laced with anger. “Why don’t you come out and say what you mean?”

Seamus leant forward; his hands braced on the table. “I’m putting forth my vote of no confidence and challenging you to a duel.”

Blake rushed to Seamus’ side and spoke quietly to him; words Quinn could not hear. Seamus brushed him aside. “I know what I’m doing,” he said. “When I win, you can be my first mate.”

Blake stepped away from him, looking a mixture of confused and concerned, and Seamus looked back at Jax. “So?”

Jax’s gaze was steely, eyes turning back to Jax. “I accept your challenge. We will fight the day after tomorrow, here on the ship at noon.”

Seamus held his gaze. “Wonderful.”

“Since that’s settled,” Jax continued. “Get out.” When Seamus did not move, he raised his voice. “I’m still captain; get the hell off this ship.”

“See you in two days,” Seamus said, turning to leave. He stopped to address the rest of the Crew. “I hope you all support the right person.”

His boots sounded on the deck above them. Sheela began to run after him, but Saoirse grabbed her arm. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she hissed. “Just because he’s our brother –”

“I’m going to talk him out of it,” Sheela said and rushed up the steps.

Jax left quickly after but before Quinn went after him, she went over to Jukes.

“Do you think –?” she asked.

“Maleficent?” Jukes said. “Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Quinn nodded. “I’ve never seen Seamus fight before,” she started, cautiously. “Is he good?”

“He is,” Jukes said. “But there’s a reason Jax was voted captain even though he was the youngest in the running.”

Quinn felt a small surge of pride but quickly sobered again. “Alright, I’ve gotta go check on Jax.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

•••

Quinn found Jax sitting in his cabin, looking out the back windows of the ship. She quietly closed the door behind her. “Are you alright?” she asked softly, sitting beside him on the window seat. “I know you and Seamus were close.”

“We weren’t close in a friends sense, but I did trust him,” Jax said. His bravado from earlier had mostly evaporated and now he was just tired.

“Jax,” she said after a few minutes. “Jukes and I think this might have something to do with Maleficent.”

He looked at her. “You mean that she put him up to it?”

“Or that she’s supporting him,” Quinn said.

Jax thought about it. “Well, it doesn’t really matter, because I’m going to win anyway.”

“And I don’t doubt that,” Quinn said. “But aren’t you worried that there’s more behind this? That maybe the duel is a distraction?”

“What do you suggest I do?”

“Maybe hold off on the duel, until we have the whole picture.”

Jax shook his head, standing up and beginning to pace. “I can’t do that, Quinn, the last thing I need now is for anyone to think I’m afraid of him.”

“If he has the support of Maleficent, maybe you should be,” Quinn exclaimed.

“I’m not afraid of Maleficent,” he scoffed.

“A little fear is a good thing; it makes sure you don’t get over-confident and complacent.”

“It kind of sounds like you don’t think I can win,” Jax said, turning to her.

“Of course, I think you can beat Seamus,” Quinn said, growing exasperated. “I’m just worried about what Maleficent might do. We are the greatest threat to her power and I’m sure she doesn’t appreciate how she can’t figure out how we keep getting supplies.”

“I’ll beat Seamus and we’ll figure it out,” he said.

Quinn sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You know, normally your confidence is attractive, but this arrogance is gonna get you killed.” She turned to go.

“Where are you going?” Jax asked.

“For some air,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

•••

Quinn walked the dark city streets. Sometime in the past year, although she could not pinpoint when, the city had become a comfort, not a danger. She clambered up fire escapes and over rooftops the way she had always done in the trees of Sherwood Forest.

Her eyes had grown sharp – always on the lookout – from all her scouting sessions with Jukes. So, she quickly recognized a figure below in an alley as Seamus.

He walked at a steady pace, neither too fast nor too slow to be immediately suspicious. Quinn began to follow him, quietly and from a distance. He changed course often – ducking into alleys, turning abruptly, and generally trying to make sure he was not being followed.

Quinn thought about going to get Jukes for backup but was afraid they would never find him back, so she continued to scramble along rooftops.

Finally, he entered the market building, empty for the night. Quinn clambered in through an upper window, determined not to lose him. Seamus stood on the opposite side of the building with somebody, exchanging words that Quinn could not hear. She crept quietly along the loft that hung out over the main space until she was directly above them.

“…said Maleficent would back me,” Seamus was saying.

“She does.” It was Fabienne. “But she would rather not have to do so in a full-scale attack.”

“Then how the hell am I supposed to guarantee her that I become captain?” Seamus asked. “Jax is a skilled fighter; I cannot be sure I’ll win.”

“You’re supposed to have been collecting information, grudges, secrets,” Fabienne said. “Don’t you have anything?”

“Jax is either so honest that he has no secrets or secretive enough that I have no idea what his secrets may be.”

“Maleficent will not be pleased to hear that you’ve gone forward with a challenge without a guaranteed victory,” Fabienne warned. “She took a great risk in trusting you, do not let her regret it.”

Seamus sighed. “What about hostages? Either Jade or Quinn would do for that.”

“Hostages would be obvious – Maleficent would prefer that our arrangement remains under wraps.” She paused. “Wait, who is Quinn?”

“Jax’s fling,” he said. “She nearly kidnapped Mal with him. She joined the Crew a few months ago.”

There was a pause. “I have never heard of her before,” Fabienne said quietly. “And Maleficent tends to have good records of all Isle residents. Whose child is she?”

Another pause. Quinn could feel her heart pounding in her chest. If they found out who she was.

“I don’t actually know,” Seamus said finally. “You’d think that would have come up by now.”

“Yes,” Fabienne mused. “Well, if Jax knows her history, perhaps this is a secret we can exploit.” They shook hands. “You look into it on your end, I’ll look into it on mine. We’ll meet again once we have figured it out.”

Quinn flattened to the floor as they both left the building, a minute after each other, out of different exits. She laid there for a few minutes after they left before getting up to go.


	12. Twelve | Blackmail

Jax was pacing again. After Quinn had told him everything she had heard, he had asked Cai, who was on watch, to go get Jade and have her guarded at all times. “If they come up empty, they might go for her anyway.”

“There’s no way he’ll be able to figure it out, right?” Quinn asked, leaning against the desk. “Only you and I know.”

He nodded. “We need to come up with a father though because he will try to catch you off-guard.”

“It would have to be someone no one knows.”

“Preferably someone from my father’s crew,” Jax mused. “Alf Mason.”

“Who?” Quinn asked.

“Exactly,” Jax said. “He’s dead and no one knows who he is or what he looked like.”

“Alright: Alf Mason,” Quinn said, letting the name gain familiarity on her tongue. “I guess there’s not really anything else we can do about all this right now.”

Jax shook his head. “Just hope for the best.” He stood in front of her and took her hands in his. “I’m sorry I was an ass earlier.” He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed them gently.

“I forgive you,” Quinn said with a small smile. “You’re under a lot of stress right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re right. Arrogance only works in certain situations.” He grinned. “Like turning you on, apparently.”

Quinn laughed. “And even that, in only very specific situations.” She stood on her toes to kiss him, arms curling around his neck.

That night, Quinn felt herself shaken awake and opened her eyes to find Cyrus’ concerned face.

“It’s Cai,” he said. “He can’t stop coughing.”

Quinn quickly pulled on her clothes and quietly crept out of the room to not wake Jax. She followed Cyrus to the forecastle. From outside the door, she could already hear the hacking cough. Inside almost everyone was awake, trying to cover their ears with pillows to drown out the noise. Cai was lying in his hammock, curled on his side and coughing into his arm. His face was pale and damp and his eyes teary and red. It seemed like a regular cold, but the cough did not sound good.

“How long has he been like this?” she asked Cyrus.

“He’s had a cold for a week or so, but it only got bad tonight.”

Quinn nodded. “Well, until we know for sure what it is, make sure he gets rest and fluids. If he gets worse, come get me.”

Cyrus nodded.

“Oh, and make sure you wash your hands and all that. We don’t need everyone else catching this, especially not now,” she added.

When she returned to bed, Jax woke up. “Where’ve you been?” he asked blearily.

“Cai has a cold. Nothing to worry about,” she said and slipped under the covers.

The next morning, Jax was already up when Quinn woke up. She found him in the guest bedroom with Jade, who was not pleased with her new bodyguard situation.

“I’ve always been allowed to go out on my own,” she protested. “What’s different now?”

“There’s a possibility someone might try to kidnap you to use as leverage,” Jax explained calmly.

“Who?” she demanded.

“I... can’t tell you,’ Jax said.

“How can I be safe if I don’t know who’s out to get me?”

Jax sighed, then caught sight of Quinn in the doorway. She smiled at them. “Maybe you two should spend the day together,” she suggested. “Then Jax can be your bodyguard, but it’ll be more fun.”

“But don’t you have to practise for the duel tomorrow?” Jade asked.

Jax grinned. “Practise? I could beat him with my eyes closed with one hand tied behind my back!” He swung an imaginary sword around blindly until Jade laughed.

Jade was much more cheerful as she and Jax left the room. “Keep an eye out,” Jax said to Quinn as they passed by.

“Always do,” Quinn said, and he quickly kissed her on the cheek.

“Gross!” Jade called. “Let’s go!”

Jax laughed and allowed her to pull him up the steps.

Quinn had a late morning shift at the shop, so she did not have much time to scout for what Seamus was up to. As she headed back to the shop, she hoped Jukes would be able to find him before anything bad happened.

The bell on the front door tinkled and Quinn turned to see Seamus of all people walk inside. She tensed but tried to seem relaxed. “Seamus,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“My father is looking for an old compass of his,” he said. “He thought it may have ended up here.”

“Perhaps,” Quinn said. “There’s a whole bunch of compasses in that display case.”

He browsed around for some time and Quinn tried to ignore him. He finally came up to the counter empty-handed.

“No luck?” Quinn said, sympathetically.

“Nope,” he said. “It’s probably at home somewhere, misplaced; you know how fathers are.”

Quinn laughed nervously. “Yeah.” She knew where this was going.

“You’ve never mentioned your father, Quinn,” he said. There it was.

“Well, it never really seemed relevant,” Quinn said.

“Who is he?”

“Alf Mason,” she said as firmly and resolutely and truthful-sounding as she could. “He was on the original crew. He’s dead now.”

Seamus nodded. “I see.” Nothing betrayed whether he believed her or not. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, see you,” Quinn said. As soon as he was gone, she leant back against the wall, allowing herself to fully breathe again. As her heartbeat calmed, she wondered if he had believed her. Only time would tell.

•••

Her shift ended right before dinner, and Quinn closed up the shop and started back towards the ship. Just as she was about to go up the gangplank, she heard her name called behind her.

“Quinn!” Jukes was sprinting towards her, lowering their voice as they neared her. “Seamus is at Captain Hook’s right now. I don’t know what it means, but it’s odd.”

Quinn felt her stomach drop as she remembered her conversation with the infamous Captain. If anyone could figure out who she was, it was him. “Oh, no,” she breathed.

“Where is Jax?”

“Out with Jade,” Quinn said and started running into the city, Jukes close behind.

They found them in a café downtown.

“What’s happened?” Jax asked.

“Seamus is at your father’s house,” Quinn gasped, out of breath.

Seeing the fear in her eyes, Jax needed to ask no more questions. “Jukes, take Jade back to the ship, keep her under guard.”

“But Jax –” Jade started.

“Jade,” he said. “This is important.”

Soon they were running again, Quinn following Jax’s lead.

“Do you think he knows?” Jax asked.

“Maybe not yet,” Quinn said. “But he did say I looked familiar.”

They skidded to a stop in front of a tackle shop in the north side of the island, named ‘Hook, Line & Sinker.’ Quinn was too stressed to appreciate the pun.

Jax threw open the door and they charged through the dark and empty shop and bounded up the back steps. They burst into a large room, where Seamus sat across from Captain Hook. They both turned to them as they entered, Seamus in surprise, Hook with casual interest.

“Speak of the devil and he –” Hook started to say but stopped when he looked at Quinn. Recognition flitted over his features. “Perhaps I do know who you are after all.”

Quinn and Jax realized their mistake. Running in here seemed to have been exactly the memory jog Captain Hook needed.

“Alf Mason was never resurrected by the Beast because he did not die in the battle with Pan.” He spoke slowly, calmly. “He died earlier, fighting the Indians.”

“Indigenous people,” Quinn corrected automatically.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she muttered, feeling his piercing blue gaze and shrinking under it.

“Seamus, what the hell?” Jax said, trying to stall his father’s realization.

“I am merely trying to learn about the gang I’ll be leading tomorrow,” Seamus said.

“You’ll have to face me fir –”

“I do not care for your meaningless bickering,” Hook interrupted, eyes still on Quinn, and tilted his head to the side. “You look so much like your mother, my dear.”

“What?” Jax asked.

“My mother?” Quinn said, barely breathing.

“Yes,” he continued. “Very pretty dark woman we met on our travels. Extremely clever; your father was quite taken with her. He nearly gave up piracy to be with her – he actually went through with it when he learned she was pregnant.”

“What was her name?” Quinn breathed. Everything else had fallen away – she had nearly forgotten why they were here. Nothing else mattered.

“Izula”

Quinn smiled a little, trying to blink away the tears forming in her eyes. “Izula.”

“You resemble her a great deal, too,” he said. “Except your eyes – those are your father’s.”

“This is all very heartwarming,” Seamus snapped. “But who is her father?” The spell was broken, and Quinn felt more grounded again.

“If you tell him, father,” Jax said. “I swear I’ll –”

“Gentleman Starkey, my former first mate.” Hook’s eyes, which had betrayed nothing before but curiosity, now blazed with anger. “The traitor. The reason we are all on this sodding island.” He rose from his chair, hook glinting menacingly.

Jax started to step in front of Quinn, but she stepped forward, drawing her sword. “I am not my father,” she said. “I never even know him.” Her mind was still whirling from all she had learned, but she would have to unpack it all later.

He looked at her drawn sword with a pitying smile. “It is naively charming that you think you could best me.”

“But the two of us could,” Jax said, drawing his sword and standing beside her.

He observed both of them a moment, looking eerily similar to how Jax did when he calculated the odds of something. “You are both more valuable to me alive,” he said finally.

“But if you’re Starkey’s kid,” Seamus said. Quinn turned to him quickly. She had nearly forgotten he was here. “then you couldn’t have been born on the Isle.” Quinn could see the cogs turning in his mind. “You knew basically nothing about the Isle when you first joined –”

“I was homeschooled,” Quinn interrupted desperately. “I was hardly let outside.”

“– because you didn’t grow up on the Isle,” he realized. “You grew up in Auradon.”

Quinn breathed out shakily and glanced over at Jax whose hand was moving towards his sword.

“Careful, Jax,” Seamus said. “The duel isn’t until tomorrow.”

“What duel, son?” Captain Hook said lazily, watching this all unfold with slight amusement.

“He challenged my place as captain,” Jax said, not taking his eyes off Seamus. “but clearly he was afraid he couldn’t win if he’s resorting to blackmail.”

“You’re the one who let a hero and a traitor on to the Crew,” Seamus spat.

“She can’t help where she’s from and her father was a traitor, not her,” Jax replied. “You, on the other hand, are most certainly a traitor. Conspiring with Maleficent to replace me as captain?”

Quinn looked between them with worry. Jax was angry, but calm, while Seamus looked like he wanted to light both of them on fire. There was no way this would end without a fight.

“Those aren’t the actions of a leader or a captain,” Jax continued. “But of a coward.”

With a yell, Seamus attacked, and Jax’s sword was out in a flash to block him. Quinn jumped back, ready to grab her own sword, but stopped, realizing that this was Jax’s fight, not hers. There could be no doubt that Jax was capable.

So she stood to the side as the two, former allies and maybe even friends, slashed away at each other, teeth bared in twin sneers. On the other side of the room, Hook had not stirred from his chair, watching the fight unfold in front of him.

Jax’s movements were graceful and calculated as ever, but Jukes was right in that Seamus was a talented fighter himself. Where Jax was all smooth manoeuvres and footwork, Seamus slashed and hacked ferociously. He was larger than Jax and used this to his advantage.

For a little bit, Quinn was worried that Jukes had overestimated Jax. Perhaps he could not beat Seamus.

“When I return to the ship victorious,” Seamus taunted. “I’ll tell the Crew about your little girlfriend.” He slashed broadly at Jax, who jumped aside. “They’ll never trust you again.”

Jax’s mouth curled into a sneer but said nothing. Quinn watched them with concern – surely they were tired by now. Then she saw what Jax was doing. In letting Seamus prattle on, in nimbly jumping in and out of his way, he was purposefully tiring him out. She noticed Seamus’ movements slow, his comments shorten and disappear as he focused entirely on the fight.

That was what Jukes had meant – Jax was not physically the strongest of the two, but he was clever enough to make up for it. She scolded herself for doubting him. Of course, he could win, he was Jax the Magnificent after all.

Seamus could see it too. When Jax’s fist connected with his jaw and he came back spitting blood, Quinn saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. But he simply grinned, blood staining his lips. “You know just beating me won’t help you,” he said as they circled each other. “Even if I lose, if the Crew finds out, they’ll kick you out anyway. The only way to stop it is to kill me.” He raised his eyebrows. “And I don’t think you have the balls to do that.”

A growl barrelled up Jax’s throat and turned into a yell as he moved so quickly, Quinn hardly saw what happened. Seamus crumpled to the ground and for a moment she was afraid that he had killed him but realized that he was just unconscious.

“You just proved his point,” Hook said dryly from his seat.

“Shut up, father,” Jax snapped, surprising everyone in the room. “He will face the Crew for his betrayal.” He looked over at Quinn. “with some modified details, of course.”

Jax and Quinn lifted Seamus’ unconscious body and began to carry him out of the room.

“Hold on,” Hook said, and they turned back. “Quinn Starkey, I hope you remember that I know who you are, and should I ever require a favour…” he warned.

Quinn’s jaw clenched. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.” She inclined her head. “Captain, have a good night.”

“You as well, Miss Starkey,” he replied. “Goodnight, son.”

Jax turned and they left without a word. Once they were out of sight of the shop, Jax looked over at Quinn. “Are you alright? He dropped a lot on you there.”

“I don’t know, I –” Quinn started but was interrupted as Jukes nearly ran into them.

“Oh, wow,” they said. “I see the duel happened earlier than planned.”

Jax grunted. “You’re hilarious, Jukes, now give us a hand.”

“It’s unfortunate really,” they continued. “I was looking forward to seeing you beat his ass.”


	13. Thirteen | Blake Jukes

With Seamus safely stowed in the brig, being watched by Jukes, Jax called a meeting. By the time everyone was on the Jolly Roger, the sky was turning grey. The Crew stood around, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes when Jax and Quinn came above-decks.

Quinn quickly went to go stand with the other Sailors so Jax stood in front of them alone. He took a breath and straightened his shoulders. “You were all here when Seamus challenged my position as captain. Now he is locked up in the brig.” A few murmurs skipped through the group. “This is not because I was afraid he would beat me,” he quickly continued. “Seamus and I fought, though not at the planned time, and at my father’s place, to whom he had gone for blackmail information. Clearly, he was afraid he would be beaten. And he had reason to fear.” He surveyed the group. “He awaits judgment in the brig. Although this is my decision to make, as his actions threatened me and I remain your captain as long as you’ll have me, I do welcome your counsel. But for now, I need time to rest, think and mourn the loss of a valued advisor.” He inclined his head to them slightly and then turned to go back to his cabin.

It was the most serious address Quinn had ever seen him give the Crew. The Sailors were all speaking over each other, trying to search for signs of Seamus’ treachery in the past. She watched his retreating form and saw how his confident posture slouched into something more defeated, right before he entered the cabin.

•••

Jax found Quinn up in the crow’s nest later that night. It had become a favourite spot to think for her, reminding her of being up in the trees of Sherwood.

“So,” he said after a few silent moments had passed between them. “Your mom.”

Quinn looked over at him with a small, slightly sad smile. “Yeah, my mom.” She looked back at the horizon. “You know, when Dad told me about Starkey, I thought he was finally going to tell me about her. I assumed she had died or left, and Dad was too broken up about it to tell me. Now I wonder if he even knew who she was.” She took a breath. “I don’t even really know who she was.”

“Well, he said she was smart, and that you look like her, so,” He grinned. “We know she was ho–”

“Alright,” Quinn interrupted, smiling and knocking her shoulder against his.

“If you want, we can ask around in the original crew to find out more about her.”

“No, that’s alright.” When Jax looked at her, confused, she continued. “I came here convinced that if I knew more about my father, I’d know more about myself, or whatever. And I thought that I’d fit in here better just because I’m the biological daughter of a man I’ve never met.” She shrugged. “And while I do like it here, I’m pretty sure that’s not because of who my father was.” They sat in silence for a moment.

“It’s because of me, right?” Jax said grinning.

Quinn rolled her eyes. “You are indeed a substantial part of why I like it here.”

“My part is indeed very substantial.”

Quinn tried to stifle a snort of laughter. “Oh, shut up. I didn’t say that to boost your already over-inflated ego.”

The silence settled between them as they remembered the other events of the night. Quinn looked over at Jax and saw how his jaw tensed and brow furrowed. “Are you gonna be alright?” she asked.

He sucked in a long breath. “Yeah, probably.”

Quinn turned back out to the horizon and leant her head on his shoulder.

The night darkened and no one came up to talk to them, having the sense to leave Jax alone. From their vantage point, Quinn saw people start to head either to their homes on the island or to the forecastle. Quinn sat up and stretched.

“I’m heading to bed,” she said quietly, putting her hand over his.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

“You need to get enough rest,” she said gently.

He turned to her, his eyes tired. He brought her hand up and brushed his lips to it. “I’ll be right in.”

Quinn smiled sympathetically and leaned in to kiss his cheek before heading down and going into the captain’s cabin. As she slipped into a nightshirt and into bed, she had a hard time keeping positive about everything. She could not imagine being in Jax’s shoes, having to decide what to do about it.

And then there was her mother. While what she told Jax was true: she did not feel like she had to know who Izula was to know who she herself was. But, was she still a bit curious. She liked the story she had created in her mind. Starkey, a charming and cruel man, meeting Izula, a clever woman in a land far from his home.

She liked to think there had been a language barrier at first, each trying to learn the other’s language. Starkey would have resisted his feelings at first but eventually given in. Then after her birth and during the final battle, Starkey and Izula desperately trying to give her a better life.

It was a lovely – though tragic – story in her mind, and likely an at least rose-tinted version of the truth, if not entirely wrong. But she liked her version better.

•••

Quinn woke to a knocking on the door and first thought that it was time for her watch. But when she blearily looked at the clock beside her, it was too early. The knocking continued – urgent.

“Jax?” she asked sleepily. “Just come in, why are you knocking?”

The door opened slightly but it was not Jax poking his head in.

“Blake?” Quinn sat up. “What are you doing? Are you looking for Jax?”

“I, uh, need to talk to you,” he said, his voice sounding slightly hoarse.

“Alright,” Quinn said, a little confused. She got up and flicked on the light. “Well, come in then.”

Blake stepped inside and as the light hit him, she saw how dishevelled he looked. His hair stood on end like he had run his hands through it many times, his shirt was untucked, and his eyes puffy, like he had been crying.

“Are you alright?” Quinn asked, stepping forward. “Did something happen?”

“Yes, something happened: Seamus is an idiot,” he snapped, sitting down on a chair.

Quinn took a seat across the table from him. “I see,” she said slowly. “I don’t see how I –”

“You have to talk to Jax,” he said. “He listens to you.”

“He also listens to Saoirse, who is his first mate, and Seamus’ sister.”

“You’re his fling, Quinn. And Saoirse is such a stickler for perfect loyalty, she’d condemn her own brother to death.”

“Wait, who said anything about being condemned to death?”

“Jax has the authority to kill traitors,” Blake said. “And I’m asking you to convince him not to. I’m not trying to defend what he did, it was stupid but, I –” His voice broke and Quinn could teel her heart aching for him. “I don’t want him to die.”

Quinn moved closer to him and placed a hand on his hand as it fidgeted on the table. “I’ll do my best,” she said earnestly. “I also don’t want him to die.”

He nodded. “And it’s not entirely Seamus’ fault either. His dad’s Smee, the softest, least villainous of the original crew. And his siblings have been able to deal with it, but he always feels like he has something to prove. Like, sure all of us are trying to prove ourselves to our parents, but he’s trying to prove himself despite his and. He tries so hard, and he gets frustrated because others have it easier.”

Quinn listened patiently as Blake babbled on, wondering if he had maybe had something to drink. It was the most non-threatening words she had ever heard from him.


	14. Fourteen | The Truth

Quinn had given Jax space all morning to think, but now, with Blake’s pleading eyes fresh in her mind, she had to speak to him. She found him up in the crow’s nest, high above even the highest buildings on the Isle.

He looked out over the Isle, face unreadable except for the sadness in his eyes. Quinn sat beside him and looked out as well.

“You were out late last night,” she said.

Jax nodded.

“Blake came to talk to me while you were out.” She looked over at him.

“What did he want? For me to just let Seamus go?”

“He just wants him to live.”

Jax said nothing.

“Jax, you’re not going to kill him, are you?” Quinn prodded.

“It’s the only way,” he said, voice slightly strangled. “He was right, if anyone finds out about you – and that I knew – the entire Isle will turn against us. We’d be as good as dead.”

“So, we kill him to save ourselves? That doesn’t seem right.”

“Yes, well, sometimes difficult decisions have to be made, Quinn,” he snapped. “This isn’t some fucking fairy-tale.” Regretting his words immediately, he looked over at her. “I’m sorry; I just mean that there are no good options here.”

Quinn sighed. “We both know that the only reason Seamus did this was because of his father. And I know how important it is to you that the kids have a chance to grow up out of their parents’ influence. It’s important to me too.” She took his hand in hers. “I’m sure there’s a way to save him, Jax, we just have to think hard enough.”

It was quiet between them for a bit, until Quinn said, “What if we just told the Crew?”

Jax looked at her, confused. “That is exactly what we’re trying to avoid here,” he said.

“If we ask them not to tell anyone outside of the Crew, maybe they will,” Quinn suggested. “I’ve been here for a year. Don’t they trust me?”

Jax scoffed. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they won’t mistrust you when they find out.”

“Isn’t the whole thing here that what our parents did or who they were doesn’t matter?”

“Ideally, yes, but it’s not that simple. You said it yourself. Seamus was driven to this by ambition and the need to prove himself despite his father.”

Quinn sighed. “I trust them.”

“I do too, with most things. I would even trust a few with this. But not all. Seamus has proven that anyone can be disloyal.”

“What if we tell one or two people, like Jukes or Sheela or even Jade even? Or just the Sailors? And then gauge their reactions?”

Jax looked at her and sighed, smiling a little. “You really are determined to see the best in people.”

Quinn stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. “An unfortunate habit,” she said with a smile.

He pulled her close and kissed her lightly. “Life would’ve been a lot easier if you hadn’t shown up,” he murmured. “But it would’ve also been a lot… less.” He sighed. “You brought some much-needed light and softness, Quinn.”

She smiled, burying her face into his shoulder, breathing deeply and wondering how on earth she got in this position. Her livelihood, if not her life, was being threatened by the son of Mr. Smee and Maleficent and yet she was utterly happy, right here, right now.

•••

Quinn decided to tell Jukes first – just to gauge how people would react.

“Hey, Jukes,” Quinn said. They were standing at the railing of the ship in the late afternoon.

“Yeah?”

Quinn racked her brain for a good segue into this conversation. There really was not one. “My dad is Starkey,” she said, making sure to keep her voice down so no one else heard her.

“What?” Jukes was staring at her.

She plowed on, needing to get it all out. “I wasn’t homeschooled on the Isle; I grew up in Auradon – I was adopted there.” She quickly explained how she found out about her heritage and came to the Isle.

Jukes listened in disbelief and took a few moments before responding. “Well, that explains why you knew jack-shit about the Isle and the gangs when you first joined,” they said finally.

Quinn searched their face, looking for any signs of anger or betrayal, but found none. “So, you’re okay with it?”

“Okay? Quinn, you can’t help who your dad is. None of us can.”

She felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “Do you think everyone will see it that way?”

Jukes shrugged. “Probably. On the Crew, at least.” They looked over at her. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because that was Seamus’ blackmail. He went to Captain Hook, who figured it out. He _definitely_ wasn’t happy about it.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure none of us actually like Hook,” Jukes said. “If Seamus thought us knowing about this would make us kick Jax out, he’s delusional.”

“Yeah, clearly,” Quinn said, then brightened. “But this means Jax can just kick Seamus out, without worrying about him telling everyone.”

Jukes nodded.

“Speaking of, I should talk to Blake,” Quinn said, starting to go.

“Hey, Quinn,” Jukes said, and Quinn turned back to look at them. “I’m glad you told me.”

Quinn smiled and went to look for Blake. She found him sitting on the roof of the shop, looking out at the ship. She sat down beside him. “Hey,” she said quietly.

He said nothing but nodded to acknowledge her presence.

“I have a way to save Seamus,” Quinn said.

Blake looked over at her. He still did not look good. His normally calm demeanour was cracking to reveal a scared teenager that hid behind all the posturing. He had not been allowed to visit Seamus – no one was, lest he told them about Quinn – and the absence was not doing him good.

“But first I have to tell you something that… you might not like.” Quinn hesitated. She and Blake had, well, not necessarily grown that close, but had developed a sort of respect and understanding since they first met. But that did not mean that she was not afraid he might react badly to what she was about to say. “Seamus did get blackmail info from Captain Hook, and it’s about me.” She took a breath. “I’m Starkey’s kid, I was adopted in Auradon and raised there. I only found out a year ago and that’s why I came to the Isle.” She said it all very quickly, avoiding his eyes. But as the silence after her words starched, she hazarded a glance at him. His brow was furrowed, but he did not seem like he wanted to throw her off the building, so that was good.

“Starkey, as in the traitor, who sold us out,” he said slowly.

“Yes, apparently, he negotiated that I would be raised in Auradon in exchange for his information.”

“So, really, you’re the reason we were defeated?”

Quinn did not like the way the conversation was going. “Indirectly, I suppose, but it’s not like I could do anything about it.”

“So, you left your perfect princess life to play VK gang member for a little while?” There was an edge to his voice now.

“Auradon isn’t perfect, it has its problems,” Quinn protested.

“Not as bad as here, I’ll bet.” His voice rose. “Is this like a vacation for you? A gap year? A way to experience the world before going back home?”

“That’s not what this is!” she exclaimed.

“Then what is it?” he snapped.

“I – I thought I’d belong here. Independent thinkers don’t do well in Auradon,” she said. “I thought I could be myself without worrying about what people thought. And I was right – kind of. Everything goes here, as long as you’re brave or stupid enough to try it. Talent and skill are what gets you places, not who your parents are.”

“So every place has its pros and cons, what a novel idea,” Blake said dryly.

Quinn huffed. “Besides, I’m stuck here, so it doesn’t really matter whether my decision to come was rational or not.”

“Wait, this was the blackmail?” Blake asked, getting back on the track of their conversation. He shook his head. “I told Seamus he was being stupid, challenging Jax, but this is ridiculous.”

“So, you’re not going to try to kick me out or turn everyone against me?” she asked cautiously.

Blake looked over at her. “As much as I hate to admit it – and if you tell anyone, I will deny I said it – you’re an asset to the Crew and I value your presence here.”

“That almost sounded like you’re saying I’m your friend,” Quinn said, allowing a small grin onto her lips.

“Don’t push it,” he said. “So, how does any of this save my idiot of a fling?”

“If we tell the Crew about me, he’ll have no blackmail,” Quinn explained. “So Jax won’t have to kill him to protect his position. We’ll make sure no one takes him seriously in case he tries to go to someone else.”

“He’ll be on his own,” Blake murmured.

“But he’ll be alive,” Quinn reminded him. “And besides, he’s smart, I’m sure someone will want him on their team.”

Blake nodded. “Thank you, Quinn, I owe you, big-time.”

•••

So, the next day, the Crew was assembled for another meeting – to decide the fate of Seamus.

“Before I make my decision on this matter,” Jax said. “There is something important you must know.” He gestured for Quinn to come to the front.

She had rehearsed many times, and the words flowed naturally as she explained how Seamus had figured out about her father, her growing up in Auradon and coming to the Isle. “I realize that this is a lot to take in,” she said, seeing the shifting eyes and muttering. “But I am telling you all because I trust you. The Crew has been my family since I arrived on the Isle and I will repay that with loyalty to each and every one of you. I can only hope that you will trust me in return and not blame me for my father’s actions.”

Jax stepped back up to the front, taking his place beside Quinn. “And now that Seamus holds no blackmail over us, I sentence him, not to death, but banishment for the Crew. I will not forbid anyone here from associating with him, just know that he will never, as long as you will have me as captain, be a part of the Crew again.”

The majority for the Crew seemed satisfied with this decision. Blake, standing at the back, breathed a sigh of relief.

Of course, Quinn could not avoid the questions about Auradon, so she answered them as patiently as she could. She told them about Sherwood and Auradon Preop and the Underground and al the other things they did not show on the grainy news footage you got on the Isle.

Blake had disappeared with Seamus, already reproaching him for his foolish decisions. Jax hung back, looking content – satisfied that everything had turned out so well.


	15. Fifteen | Illness

Three more kids were down with a cough a week later and Quinn did her best to keep up their spirits as they laid in their hammocks. While she was grateful for the distraction from everything that had happened with Seamus, she was starting to get concerned; this seemed like more than a regular cold.

She was brewing another pot of tea when Jax came into the galley. He could see the tension in her forehead and hopped up onto the counter beside the kettle.

“How are they doing?” he asked.

Quinn leant against the counter across from him, brow creased. “Their symptoms seem to just indicate a cold, but Cai has had a bad cough for two weeks now, without a sign of getting better.”

Jax looked at her suddenly. “Is it a dry cough?”

“Yes?”

He grabbed her hand and nearly ran into the doorframe in his hurry. Quinn, confused, scrambled after him as he led them to the forecastle, where Cai and the others were lying in their bunks.

Cai was in the middle of a coughing fit and between coughs, he gasped for air, high-pitched in a way that made Quinn wince sympathetically.

“What is it?” Quinn asked Jax, whose jaw tightened at the sound. He moved farther away from the sick kids.

“I think it’s whooping cough,” he said quietly, so only she could hear him.

Quinn frowned. “Whooping cough? But there’s a vaccine for –” Her realization struck her like a punch to the gut, followed by a wave or rage at the Auradonian establishment unlike any other she had had. “There’s no medicine on the Isle,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Jax. She closed her eyes for a moment and drew her hand through her hair, then looked at Jax. “How bad is whooping cough? Have kids caught it here before?”

He nodded. “Every few years there’s a bunch of bad cases. One year, a while back, three kids died.” Quinn’s heart plummeted like a rock to the bottom of her stomach. “But if you have a vaccine, you won’t have to worry about catching it,” he said.

Quinn nodded. “Alright, if it’s this bad, we need to separate the sick people as well as everyone who helped me take care of them.”

“We’ll move them above the shop,” Jax said.

“ _I’ll_ move them,” Quinn said. “You need to be careful too. And the younger kids especially. If I remember correctly, it’s more dangerous for young children.”

They were not happy to have to move, but Quinn got everyone who was sick up to the room above the shop. Cai, she moved last and every so often, they had to stop when a coughing fit overtook him. Once, when they were nearly at the door of the shop, the fit was so bad that he vomited. Quinn jumped back at first but stroked his back as he retched through his coughs. “It’s alright,” she murmured.

She led him up the steps to where several make-shift beds lay spread around the room.

  * ••



Quinn was not extremely familiar with whooping cough since it was mostly eradicated in Auradon. But if it was reasonably common here, perhaps there were records of it, and hopefully some treatment instructions.

“Jax?” she asked one morning as they got ready for the day. “Where would I find an archive or records?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “The library at the school, maybe? It’s the largest collection of books on the Isle that I know of.”

An hour later, Quinn and Sheela were inside. “You know,” Sheela said, putting her lockpicking supplies back in her pocket. “I never thought I’d be breaking _into_ school.”

Quinn smiled. The school was dark and empty – it was the weekend – and they crept through the corridors.

“Library’s this way,” Sheela said, leading her into a room filled to bursting which shelves and tables piled high with books, as well as stacks of books on the floor.

Quinn whistled. “This might take a while.”

Sheela smiled. “There is some rhyme and reason to it. I suggest we start over there.” She pointed to the left back corner. “That’s the ‘practical information we might actually need’ section.”

They spent over an hour searching until Sheela called out, “I think I found something!”

Quinn rushed over to her side. Sheela held a handwritten notebook entitled _Common Illnesses_. They flipped through until they found a page on whooping cough. Quinn skimmed over the symptoms, checking them off in her head: red watery eyes, runny nose, dry cough; then as the illness worsens: more coughing which may provoke vomiting, result in a red or blue face, cause extreme fatigue, or end with a distinctive high-pitched whoop.

“But there’s no cure or treatment,” Sheela said, having skimmed to the bottom.

“Rest, fluids, smaller meals to discourage vomiting, clean air,” Quinn read. “But teens and adults often recover no problem – although they’ll be weak for three to six months.”

“Three months?” Sheela repeated. “That won’t be good for morale or defending ourselves from attacks. Although I guess everyone will be having the same problem once it starts to spread.”

Quinn nodded and closed the book. “Well, this was a bit of a waste of time – it’s basically the same treatment as a regular cold.”

“At least we know for sure we’re not missing anything,” Sheela said encouragingly.

When they returned to the shop, Harper, Corinna, and Jade were sitting at the counter speaking in low tones. Quinn would not have given them a second glance if their expressions had not been so serious. The three Powder Monkeys often hung out together but usually gossiped or pulled pranks.

“Is everything alright?” she asked them.

They all hesitated before Corinna spoke up. “We heard that Maleficent started the sickness on purpose and that she has a cure.”

“It’s whooping cough,” Quinn said firmly. “It comes around every few years, and it doesn’t have a cure.” _At least not on this island_.

“Apparently there’s medicine on the ships from Auradon,” Harper added. “And she’s hoarding it to herself.”

Quinn exchanged a look with Sheela. These types of rumours would not help morale either.

“If there was medicine, we would’ve found it with our tunnel,” Sheela said.

Corinna came to Quinn with a bad cough the next day. She quietly admitted that she had been feeling under the weather for a little while already but did not want to be separated from her friends. Quinn did not have the heart to scold her.

With both his siblings sick, Cyrus started sleeping behind the counter in the shop.

One day, as she sat in the room above the shop, watching over the sick, Quinn heard footsteps on the stairs. She looked up to see a boy, maybe ten or eleven, with blond hair, wearing red, white, and black leather.

“Can I help you?” Quinn asked, getting up. “Just stay in the doorway, we don’t want to spread it.”

The boy nodded. “You’re Quinn, right? The doctor?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a doctor, but I am in charge of taking care of sick Crewmembers,” she clarified. “Do you need my help?”

“My friend, I’m worried that he might get sick because his dad is keeping his store open,” he said. “And then I might get sick too.”

Quinn nodded and pulled out a few cloth masks she had Crewmembers make in their free time. “I can’t guarantee you or your friend won’t get sick,” she said. “But wearing these will help.” She handed them to him. “And make sure you wash your hands often.”

He nodded earnestly. “I owe you a favour.”

Quinn wanted to protest, but this kid did not seem like he would take no for an answer. “Sure.” It wasn’t like she would need this kid’s help anyway. As he turned to leave, she called after him. “Wait, what’s your name?”

“Carlos,” he called over his shoulder. “Carlos de Vil!”

Quinn was so constantly exhausted and busy that weeks slipped by. Cai mostly recovered, though he still tired easily, which frustrated him – especially when Quinn told him to take it easy and be patient. Jax visited often and they would sit in the backroom of the shop, usually not even talking that much. He would update her on the goings-on while she rested her head in his lap.

She had not been sleeping well in their makeshift hospital wing, missing Jax beside her. So, she would often drift off, Jax’s familiar scent surrounding her, his fingers gently brushing her hair out of her face. She would jerk awake some time later, feeling a little guilty to have fallen asleep in their limited time together, but he would just smile.

On one such occasion, he said, “Cai can probably start helping with the sick kids, so you can take turns.”

Quinn nodded. “He needs something to do. Not being able to go out is driving him nuts.”

“I bet.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Let him be in charge for tonight. We can hang out – you are in dire need of a date.”

“A date?” Quinn looked up at him. “How Auradonian of you.”

“You insult me,” he said with a grin.

With Cai installed as her temporary assistant, Quinn and Jax stepped out onto the nighttime Isle streets. They were quieter than usual, most people staying home to avoid getting sick.

They walked to the far end of the Isle, where they could look out to open sea. There was a small dent in the slab of rock that formed the shore that was perfect for two people to sit in.

Quinn curled to Jax’s side as they watched the stars come out, their reflections on the sea winking up at them. She allowed herself calm for the first time in a while and did not think of whooping cough. She instead focused on how she could feel every breath Jax took, could feel his heartbeat with her head on his chest. It was so familiar, so comforting.

It was home.

The realization shuddered through her with a certainty that almost scared her. Almost. “Jax,” she said quietly.

“Mmm,” he hummed.

“I love you.”

For a moment he said nothing. For a moment, Quinn was afraid she had said it too early, or that was not how flings worked or –

“I love you too,” he said quietly.

Quinn turned her head to look up at him and saw that softness in his eyes that made her feel like melting. She kissed him and then settled against his chest once more.

The moon had risen, full and bright, its reflection on the water rippling and distorting in the waves.

But the moment could not last forever and soon they had to scramble back up the rocks and return to the shop. A wide-eyed Cai met them at the door.

“Cai, you were supposed to stay upstairs,” Quinn said. She pushed Jax back and stepped in front of him protectively. “You might still be contagious.”

“It’s Corinna,” he said.

Nothing more had to be said. Jax nodded and squeezed Quinn’s hand encouragingly before she and Cai hurried upstairs.

Corinna was curled on her side, coughing ceaselessly. Between bouts, she gasped in as much air as she could in the distinctive whoop that Quinn could never get used to, no matter how often she heard it.

Cai stood, helpless, flinching sympathetically with his sister. “Can you do something to help her?” he asked.

Quinn crouched beside her but could do nothing but rub her back and whisper encouragingly, “It’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

When the coughing finally subsided, Corinna let out a whimper. She looked exhausted. Cai helped her take a sip of water before she curled up against him.

Corinna was the one Quinn was most worried about. The book had said that children were most at risk – the younger the child, the higher the risk. She exchanged a worried look with Cai, but before either could say anything, footsteps bounded up the stairs. Harper appeared in the doorway, face fraught with concern.

“Harper, you can’t be up here,” Quinn scolded, getting to her feet.

“Is Corinna alright?” he asked, starting into the room.

“She’s resting,” Quinn said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Go downstairs before you get sick too.” He tried to get around her, but Quinn managed to usher him to the stairs. “Harper, you can’t do anything for her right now, okay? She just needs to rest and let her body fight the sickness. She’s tough, you know that.”

He nodded, though a little uncertainly.

“And it’ll be easier for her if she’s not worried about you,” Quinn continued. “So, don’t do anything that will get you sick or hurt.”

Harper looked around Quinn to where Corinna lay. “Can you tell her I said get well soon when she wakes up?” he asked in a small voice.

“Of course,” Quinn said, with a little smile. “Now run along.”


	16. Sixteen | Harper Hanson

Two days later and Corinna was no better. She complained that it hurt her chest to cough and even breathe, and Quinn feared she may have bruised a rib. The book had warned of that.

She decided to have dinner with the rest of the Crew for the first time since the sickness had started. Sitting with the Sailors and Jukes, she heard the news from the rest of the island. As she had realized from the blond boy – Carlos – all gangs were suffering, especially those with younger members. Quinn hoped with all her heart that they had enough past knowledge to deal with this. She had been so focused on the Crew she had not given much thought to other VKs.

However they tried to avoid the topic, it was always there in the periphery. Contact between groups had greatly diminished, so Nia and Annabelle Tremaine, who had just started a fling, were separated.

“It just kinda sucks, you know?” Nia said. “We still hang out, but a ways apart.”

“Not quite the same when you can’t have your tongues down each other’s throats, huh?” Jukes asked.

Nabil groaned. “You didn’t have to put that picture in my head!”

Jukes grinned and slung back the last of their drink. “Hey, Hugo, where’s your kid brother? He’s usually hanging all over you.”

Hugo shrugged. “As long as he’s not following me around, I’m happy.” Still, he looked around with some concern; Harper was nowhere on deck.

Cyrus had recently come back from the shop, so Quinn called over to him, “Hey, Cyrus, is Harper hanging around the shop again?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen him all afternoon actually.”

Just then, Jade ran onto the ship, out of breath, eyes terrified. Jax, who had been sitting with Saoirse and Blake, was on his feet in an instant, crossing the deck towards her. “What is it, Jade?” he asked when he reached her.

“Harper, he went to get medicine for Corinna,” she gasped. Before she had finished, Hugo had bounded towards her. Quinn felt her heart sink as she remembered their conversation before Corinna fell ill. “He said Maleficent was hoarding the medicine,” Jade continued.

“The little idiot’s going to get himself killed,” Hugo said, stalking to the armoury. In minutes, the Crew was ready to go.

Jax pulled Quinn aside. “Quinn, I know you want to help but –”

“I’ll stay at the shop,” she said. “I’m of more use there.” She kissed his cheek. “Be safe.”

He nodded and led the Crew into the city.

•••

“Quinn!” came the desperate call.

Quinn rushed down the stairs into the shop. The door opened and she saw that it was Hugo, Nia, and Nabil, carrying someone that looked awfully small.

It was Harper.

They laid him down at her feet, blood streaming from a wound in his chest. Hugo’s face was desperate, face covered in tears. “Please, Quinn, can you save him?”

Quinn looked down at Harper’s pale face, scrunched up with pain. _I’m not an actual doctor_ , she thought desperately.

But she quickly knelt at his side, pulling away the scraps of a shirt that still clung to his body.

“I need alcohol, needle and thread, and bandages from the first aid box upstairs,” she snapped at Nia and Nabil.

Using the scarf that someone had thrust at her, Quinn mopped up some of the blood. Nabil pulled a flask from inside his jacket and she quickly opened it.

“Now, Harper,” Quinn said quietly, touching his face gently. “This is gonna hurt, but I need to disinfect the wound.”

Harper nodded quickly.

“Take his hand,” she told Hugo, who did so.

Quinn poured the contents of the flask over the wound and Harper cried out in pain. She winced at the horrible sound but willed herself to continue.

Nia appeared out of the darkness and pressed a needle and thread into Quinn’s hands, which she doused in alcohol.

Her hands were shaking. The thread would simply not go into the eye of the needle.

A pair of hands took them from her and deftly threaded the needle. Quinn looked over to see Jax kneeling beside her. He looked a little beat up, but otherwise alright.

He gave her back the needle and squeezed her shoulder. “You can do this,” he said quietly.

Quinn nodded and leaned over Harper again. She had never done anything like this before. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the needle into the side of the wound. Harper’s entire body tensed up, but he stayed silent.

In and out.

Back and forth.

 _Just like sewing clothes_ , she told herself.

But he was still bleeding.

After she was done stitching up the wound, Quinn wrapped his chest up in cloth as tightly as she could. But before she could feel relieved in any way, the make-shift bandages were already soaking through with blood. Harper coughed suddenly, blood dribbling between his lips and down his cheeks.

“What’s happening?” Hugo exclaimed, looking up at Quinn from where he knelt at his brother’s side.

“I... I don’t know,” she said, sinking to her knees again. “Maybe... he has a punctured lung?”

Harper coughed again, more blood coming up.

“Well, fix it!”

Quinn stared at Hugo’s face and then at Harper’s. Harper was paler now. Checking his pulse, she noticed it was fainter. His breathing was growing shallow. His eyes began to close, his eyeballs begin to roll to the back of his head.

“No!” Quinn exclaimed, taking his face in her hands. “Stay here, Harper!” She could feel Jax’s arm around her shoulders, gripping her tight.

“What?” Hugo cried. “What’s happening?”

“Come on, Harper,” Quinn said, tears blurring her vision. “Fight!”

“Quinn!” Hugo’s voice was desperate and he choked back sobs. “Do something!”

Quinn stared at him, the tears in her eyes threatening to escape. She let go of Harper’s face. “I– I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I can’t– I don’t know how to save him.”

Hugo’s face broke, collapsed into itself as he desperately grabbed at his brother. “Harper? Come on, man. You can’t go!”

Quinn just stared, helpless, as the life left Harper’s eyes, leaving them glassy and empty. Hugo sobbed over his small bloody body.

Such a small body.

Jax was trying to pull her closer, to ask her if she was alright but she pulled away. Her entire body was trembling and there was a sob stuck in her throat. Jukes was trying to catch her eye but she turned away.

Quinn stumbled away from the crowd and then began to run. She sprinted down alleyways until she reached the edge of the city. There, she crumpled to the ground, the far-off lights of Auradon blurring through her tears.

And she screamed.

She screamed for Harper. She screamed for Hugo. But most of all, she screamed for every VK on this godforsaken island.

She screamed until her throat hurt.

And then she screamed some more.

Jax found her a little while later, kneeling on the broken concrete, her face in her arms on an old crate.

“Quinn,” he said gently, sitting down beside her. “Quinn, we’re going to do the goodbye ceremony.” His hand gripped her shoulder. “I know you’ll want to be there.”

•••

The entire crew was present, standing on the main deck of the Jolly Roger, which was situated as far out to sea as was possible. The magical barrier glistened slightly in the sunlight.

Harper’s body was wrapped in white and lay on the deck. Jax made his way to stand beside it. His face was solemn.

“Today we say farewell to a loyal member of our crew,” he said in ringing tones. “Though he was only a Powder Money, he was always ready for anything and fought bravely.”

Hugo – trying to put on a brave face – and a man Quinn recognized as his father, Hans, stepped forward. They each picked up either end of the white bundle.

“We salute you, Harper,” Jax continued. “And set you free from this prison.”

Hugo and Hans swung Harper’s body over the railing. The barrier quivered as the body passed through it and the splash sounded muffled on the other side.

Quinn’s realization of the harsh truth of life on the Isle seemed punctuated by that splash: the only way to leave was to die.

Quinn slipped away before anyone could see the tears forming in her eyes. Up on the roof, she sat down at the edge and just let herself cry. Harper was so young, barely twelve, and already he was a victim of the violence and lack of resources on this island. How could anyone live a happy life here?

Hearing footsteps, Quinn quickly tried to wipe away the tears but then looked up to see that it was Jax coming towards her. He sat down beside her.

“You left pretty quick after the ceremony,” he said. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine... it’s just... He was so young.” she turned to him. “Is this the fate of every VK, dying in a fight?”

“It is a noble way to die,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“There has to be a way to change it.” Quinn wiped her tears away again. The time for crying was over, now it was time to think ahead. “This island needs to have proper medical care. That would have saved him. There need to be better resources here: doctors, police, teachers, psychiatrists, children’s protection services.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.” Jax looked at her. “Auradon doesn’t care about us.”

Quinn sighed and leaned her head against the wall behind her. “There has to be a way to convince people. I’m sure the Sherwood group would get behind it, the Undergrounders probably too.”

“Nothing’s gonna change, Quinn, because they won’t listen to a bunch of VKs,” said Jax. “We know that.”

“What if it could?” Quinn sat up straighter. “What if we could somehow communicate with Auradon and negotiate some things for the Isle? We could start to mend the relationship, at least with the children of the villains. I’ve always thought it ridiculous that the children have to share the punishment, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.”

Jax looked at her with a sudden realization. There was sadness in his eyes. “You have to go back.”

“What?”

“You’re the only one who can help us,” he said quietly. “You’re the only one who has been on both sides. You could be in Auradon without attracting attention. You understand us but you also understand them.”

Quinn felt her heart sink. “But it’s impossible, otherwise others would have made it to Auradon before.”

“No one has ever succeeded in making it to Auradon because they didn’t have help on the other side,” Jax said. “You do.”

He was right. Of course, he was. Quinn knew it was selfish of her to want to stay when she knew her presence in Auradon could help the kids here. And yet. “Jax, do you have any idea how long it could take to change public perception of VKs?” If it ever happened at all, she could not help but think.

“I know,” he said. “But, the sooner we start planning, the sooner it’ll happen.”

Quinn nodded, already feeling the ache in her chest at the thought of having to say goodbye to Jukes, the Sailors, the Crew. And Jax. “Jax, I –” She looked up at him.

He smiled sadly. “I know.” He took a breath and stood up, holding out a hand to her. Quinn took it and he pulled her up into a hug.


	17. Seventeen | The Return

Jax, Saoirse, Jukes, Cyrus, and Quinn sat around the table in Jax’s cabin and Quinn recounted how she got to the Isle in as much detail as she could. When she had finished, they all sat in silence for a few moments and she could not help but remember Mark’s warning: getting back will be a lot harder.

“Well, getting into the harbour area will be much harder now; Maleficent has upped security since…” Jukes trailed off, but Harper’s name echoed in the silence. “But she doesn’t know about our secret entrance.”

“Yet,” Cyrus amended. “We should do this as quickly as we can because it’s bound to be discovered sooner or later.”

Jax nodded. “You can use the tunnel, we can cause a distraction. How you get on the ship will be on you.”

“This Mark fellow,” Saoirse said. “He will be able to help you from the other side?”

“Only if we get a message to him somehow, then he could cause a distraction on his end,” Quinn agreed.

“What about that kid who caused a power outage in Auradon City for half an hour?” Cyrus asked. “He might have the tech.”

“The de Vil kid?” Jukes said. “He’d probably be able to send a message, but I don’t think he would do it or keep his mouth shut about it.”

“Carlos de Vil?” Quinn asked and they nodded. “He might for me.” They all looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. “He owes me a favour.”

“You want me to send this message to this cell number in Auradon?” Carlos asked. “And not tell anyone?”

Quinn and Jax nodded. They sat in the back of Jafar’s Bargain Shop, where Carlos had a box of electronic trinkets, which he fiddled with as they discussed the plan.

“Do you know how many people would love to send messages to Auradon? How much money I could make if they knew I could do it?”

“We’re not saying you can’t tell anyone you can send messages, just not about this specific message,” Quinn insisted.

Carlos regarded them both, considering it for only a moment before nodding. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

And so it was sent out: “I’m coming back. Next Saturday. Need a distraction. Down with John.”

“Down with John?” Jax asked.

“So he knows it’s me,” Quinn said. “It’s a thing the Merry Men used to say.”

Time moved more quickly than Quinn wanted. In the flurry of preparation, she managed to pull Cai aside and tell him everything she could remember from her first aid classes. In the weeks he had spent by her side caring for the sick, he had kind of become her protégé.

The kids were on their way toward recovery, and their quarantining had meant no one had fallen ill since Corinna. She was also doing much better and although they told her it was not her fault that harper died, Quinn could tell she felt guilty about it. No one in any other gang had died of whooping cough that they knew of, so there was hope that this year’s cases were not as serious.

She and Jukes got a drink the day before, sitting at a table in the back rather than their normal spot at the bar so they would not be overheard.

“What do you think you’ll miss the most about this place?” Jukes asked.

Quinn thought for a moment, then grinned. “Being able to drink, obviously.” She held up her beer. “I’ll have to wait another year to be allowed in Auradon.”

“Damn,” Jukes said, clinking their bottle with Quinn’s. “It’ll be rough.”

Quinn smiled. “But seriously, I’ll miss the people: the whole Crew, you, Nia, Nabil, Hugo, Clove –”

“Jax,” Jukes interrupted teasingly.

“Yes,” Quinn said, smile soft. “And the little Powder Monkeys: Jade, Corinna –” There it was again. Harper.

“We’re all going to miss Harper,” Jukes said quietly.

Quinn nodded. “I’m doing this for him as much as every other kid on this island.”

“To Harper,” Jukes said, raising their bottle. “May we all be willing to do anything to save our friends.”

“To Harper,” Quinn echoed.

•••

Crewmembers were stationed all around the edges of the harbour with fireworks they would ‘lose control of’ as soon as they saw the signal. Jax and Quinn stood at the end of the tunnel that led into the warehouse nearest the water. Quinn had said her goodbyes to everyone but Jax and knew she could not stall any longer.

“In a few minutes, you have to start down the tunnel. Then I’ll wait five minutes before I signal the others,” Jax explained, even though they had gone over the plan about a million times before. “The fireworks should give you about ten minutes, so you have to move quickly.”

“I know, Jax,” she said.

“Do you have everything?” he asked.

“Dagger, sword,” she said, patting the hilts on her belt respectively.

“And do you have –”

“Jax,” Quinn interrupted. “I have everything I need; I checked like five times before we left.” She took his hands in hers. “It’ll be fine.”

“Hey, blind arrogance is my thing.”

Quinn smiled. God, she would miss him. “Not blind arrogance,” Quinn said. “Confidence, in both myself and the Crew.” She took a breath. “I guess we have to say goodbye now.”

“Not goodbye. More like, see you later,” Jax amended.

“We don’t know how much later it’s gonna be,” Quinn said. “I’m gonna miss you.”

He grinned. “Who wouldn’t?” His face turned more serious. “I love you and I believe you can do this.”

Quinn smiled. “I love you too.” And when he kissed her, all she could think was how much she hoped that he was right and that this would not be their last time together.

And then it was go-time. A quick hand squeeze, a sharp nod, and she was off down the tunnel, watch on her wrist counting down the five minutes. She had only been down the tunnel once before since supply runs were not her usual detail, but Saoirse had drawn a detailed map of the warehouse and Jukes had taken her up to a tall building nearby, from where they could see the layout of the harbour.

In two minutes, she had reached the end of the tunnel and listened for a moment to make sure no one was on the other side before removing the plank of wood that covered the hole. The warehouse was dimly lit, but her eyes were already accustomed to the darkness of the tunnel. She put the wood back over the entrance of the tunnel – marvelling how well it blended into the wall – before surveying the warehouse. According to Saoirse’s map, there was a side door that led to a narrow walkway that the ship would pass by as it left for Auradon. She would have to get on board while it moved past.

Quinn slunk between stacks of crates and piles of burlap sacks, a hand of the hilt of her sword. Just as she spotted the door, she heard footsteps and wedged herself between two crates. The stops grew louder and Quinn barely dared to breathe as a troll passed right by her hiding place. She did not move until his footsteps retreated so far that she could no longer hear them. She looked down at her watch; the distraction would start in less than a minute, meaning the ship would be passing by soon.

She peered out of her hiding place and – seeing no one – scampered for the door. As her hand touched the handle, she heard the first of the fireworks go off. She heard trolls roaring and running in the direction of the sound. She tugged the door open and stepped out into a narrow wooden walkway, letting the door close behind her.

The planks creaked under her weight and for a terrifying moment, Quinn was afraid they might collapse, but they held. She heard the roar of the ship’s engine and looked to her right. It was not moving too quickly yet, having just cast off, but Quinn knew she only had about a minute to plan her way onto it.

She regarded the churning of the water around the hull apprehensively. There was no way she could get on from the water; she would be pulled under. There were three sets of ladders attached to the side of the ship – one in the front, one in the middle, and one near the back. She would just have to hope she could make the jump.

If anyone was up on the bridge, they would see her on the first two, which left only the third ladder. She would only have one chance at this.

Fortunately, it was not the first time she had done something like this. All the Sherwood kids had basically grown up in the trees, so regular old tree climbing grew boring. To entertain themselves, they had to think up more and more interesting ways to get through the trees every summer; they also got more and more dangerous, until someone fell, and they all got in trouble.

One summer, it was tree-hopping. Sam Scarlett – one of the eldest Sherwood kids, and also the most daring – had started it. In the beginning, they would just make short jumps between close branches, but of course, the distances got farther and farther, with fully planned out courses and routes to get from place to place the fastest. By July, they had figured out a way to bend branches to fling people even further.

Quinn had joined in enthusiastically and though she was never able to jump quite as far as the older kids, her size was to her advantage for tree-flinging however, since she could go farther than the others. She had been just too young to grasp the danger, so there was nothing quite like flying through the air, arms outstretched for a tree branch barrelling towards you.

Unfortunately, one day Marian saw her flying through the air and put an end to it all – although a lot of kids still used the tree-hopping routes to get places faster.

But now, she saw the danger. It was a long way down to the water, which whirled threateningly beside the ship. Quinn watched anxiously as she watched the first and second ladders bass by. The figures in the bridge seemed to pay her no mind, just a VK hanging around the harbour. The bridge passed by and Quinn prepared for the jump.

The ship had started to turn, the bow curving away from the side, which brought the stern closer. Quinn bounced on the balls of her feet as it neared.

When the ladder was nearly across from her, she jumped, arms out. She hit the side with a louder _bang_ than she had expected, a rung knocking the wind out of her. She managed to hold onto a rung, knuckles paling as she found a foothold.

Gasping in a few breaths, she hurried up the ladder and hopped onto the deck quietly. Through the fireworks that were still going off, she thought she might have heard a triumphant whoop.

She ran, half-crouched, down the deck until she found a door to the hold. Before she went down, she looked back at the Isle, which looked very much the same as it did when she first arrived over a year ago on this same ship. Nothing had really changed about the island, but she saw it differently now. There was Jukes’s favourite outlook spot, the clocktower of Frollo’s chapel, and she could just see the mast of the Jolly Roger.

And of course, she was different – in so many ways she did not want to think about it right now.

So, with a last look back, then a glance at the approaching lights of Auradon, Quinn slipped into the hold.

•••

Mark’s diversion of dogs, cats, and rats, stampeding the harbour worked remarkably well. Quinn – clad in the loose pants, shirt, and cap from her previous crossing – was able to slip off the ship unnoticed. At the edge of the nearby clump of forest where she had said goodbye to Mark, she waited in the dark, eyes peeled.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and in a moment her sword was out, flashing in the moonlight.

“Hey, it’s me!” Mark exclaimed, stepping back quickly. “Don’t decapitate me.”

Quinn breathed a sigh of relief, sheathing her sword before hugging him. “It’s good to see you, Mark.”

“I’m just glad you got over okay,” Mark said. He held her at an arm’s distance. “You look different, stronger.” He noticed a scar on her arm and raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that’s old,” Quinn said quickly. “And of course I look different, it has been a year.”

“Well over a year,” Mark said. “I was starting to worry you’d never come back.”

If not for the quick succession of whooping cough and Harper’s death, she probably would not have, Quinn realized guiltily. “So, did you train all those small animals for just such an occasion.”

“No,” he said with a grin, leading her to a clump of bushes where she saw the silhouettes of two horses waiting for them. “You remember Peggy Piper from school?” She nodded. “Well, I suggested it might be fun to collect the small animals from the area and lead them on a tour around Auradon City. It just so happened that the route passed through the shipyards at the right time.”

“What a happy coincidence,” Quinn said with a smile.

They had reached the horses and Quinn immediately recognized one as her own. “Onyx!” she exclaimed. “Hey, buddy.” She stroked his velvety nose and buried her face in his mane.

“We could probably get going before anyone investigates where the animals came from,” said Mark.

They mounted their horses and disappeared into the night.

•••

“So, why did you decide to come back?” Mark finally asked. “Life on the Isle didn’t suit you?”

“It did, it’s just...” Quinn sighed. “the kids there need help.” She looked at him. “And I can help them more from over here than over there.”

Mark shook his head. “How can you help them from here?”

“I don’t have a full plan yet, but I want to change the public perception of VKs, and eventually get them the help and resources they need.”

“Like what?”

“Like actual medical care, for a start,” Quinn said. She paused for a long moment, the only sound being the horses’ hooves on the gravel road. “How’s my dad?” Quinn asked finally.

“He’s holding up,” said Mark. “He’s worried for sure, and he blames himself for you leaving.”

Quinn sighed. “I know that leaving was kind of selfish, but maybe now something good will come out of it, with the VKs.”

The sun began to rise as they entered Sherwood Forest and Quinn breathed in deeply. She had missed the scent of the dirt and leaves and grass and pine needles so much. She closed her eyes, hearing the leaves rustle in the slight breeze and the soft thumps of the horses’ hooves on the path.

Quinn heard a twig snap somewhere to the right and her eyes snapped open, hand automatically reaching for the dagger on her belt.

“Quinn?” Mark looked concerned. “What is it?”

Frowning, Quinn shook her head. _You’re safe here_ , she told herself, but that did not relax her very much. “Nothing,” she said, looking straight ahead again. “It’s fine.”

She knew that he was still looking at her worriedly, but ignored it. Maybe she had changed more than she realized.

They neared the village and Quinn spurred Onyx to a gallop, skidding to a halt in front of the tree that held their home.

Home.

“Dad?” Quinn called as she jumped off and sprinted towards the house. “Dad, I’m back!”

The door was open by the time she got there and Quinn threw her arms around Dad’s neck before he had a chance to say anything.

He held onto her tight. “You’re safe,” he breathed. “Thank goodness you’re safe.”


	18. Eighteen | Dad

They sat behind the house, looking out at the forest.

Breathing in deeply, Quinn let the feeling of the forest surround her. “It’s good to be back,” she murmured.

Dad looked over at her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the Isle?”

Quinn looked at him. “How did you know? Mark told you, didn’t he?”

He shook his head. “I recognized you on a news broadcast about the Isle and their juvenile delinquent population.”

“I always tried to avoid the cameras, but I guess I missed that one,” Quinn said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew you would worry and try to convince me not to go,” she said. “Mark tried that too.”

“You’re right,” he said. “What was it like over there?”

Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it. It took a little getting used to but... it was kind of home.” She could tell Dad was looking at her. “But no more than Sherwood is home. Of course, there are some very harmful things about the way things are done there, but some things are better.”

He looked at her curiously.

“Over here it matters what you look like and which heroes you’re associated with,” Quinn looked over at Dad. “Over there it doesn’t matter. As much It only matters who you are and what you’re good at.” She paused. “I think we could learn a lot from them.”

He was quiet as her words sank in.

•••

“I have to help them,” Quinn said quietly over dinner one evening. Dad and Mark – who was visiting – looked up.

“Help who?” asked Dad.

“The kids, on the Isle,” Quinn said, a little uncertain, eyes fixed on the place in front of her.

Dad and Mark exchanged a look; she had not spoken much about the year she had been gone. She knew they were curious, but they did not want to push her and had generally left it alone for which she was grateful

For everyone else, Quinn had just told them she had had a great time in the northern lands; met people, learned things, and experienced a lot.

“It’s bad over there, okay, and those kids have so little they don’t even know what they’re missing. Their parents are abusive and brainwash them. The gangs are constantly struggling for power, wanting to live up to their parents’ expectations–” Quinn stopped for a second, trying to get a hold of herself and stop all their faces from flashing in front of her. “Kids are dying, okay? Getting killed in the stupid power struggle that is constantly going on.” She looked up at Dad and Mark, trying hard to keep the tears at bay. “They don’t have a chance.”

Dad reached out and squeezed her hand. “We believe you, Quinn. What needs to happen?”

“They need to come here,” Quinn said, immediately continuing before either of them interrupted. “I know it’ll be hard. People over here are pretty stubborn, more so than on the Isle almost. But there are already those who disagree with the king, right?” She turned to Mark. “Like the Underground? Wouldn’t they support something like this?”

“The Underground?” Dad asked sharply, turning to Mark, who looked a bit sheepish. “Have you been associating with them? You know what people think of them.”

“Come on, Uncle John,” he said. “You know they have a point. The education system discourages independent thinking, we’re not supposed to question the king, and the most powerful are only gaining power and pride. We’ve become complacent since the villains got locked up. We don’t recognize bad things happening here in Auradon because we’re all heroes and therefore good all the time. The Undergrounders mostly want to point out the hypocrisy.”

Quinn smiled at Mark. When he talked like this, it not only reminded her of Jax and why she had returned to Auradon but also of how they and the rest of the Sherwood kids would talk when they were all still at school. They did not talk against the king back then, at least, not often, but against the teachers and silly rules.

Dad seemed to be at least temporarily satisfied by Mark’s answer, so Quinn asked, “So, you think they’ll support this?”

Mark shrugged. “The villains and the Isle have never really been brought up often, but you could present your idea at the next meeting.” He paused. “You’ll need a more formulated plan, though.”

She fidgeted with her cutlery. “I have the beginnings of a plan. I want the kids to have the same chance I did.” She glanced at Dad. “For them to have an opportunity for a better life. It could be like a program. The ones who wanted to come could sign up without the risk of their parents finding out. There are ways to keep information away from the villains and only amongst the VKs. That part is very important; every VK fears their parents, at least to some degree. Then, if other kids hear good things about their friends over here, more will come.”

“The main problem is not the villains though,” Dad said. “As you said, the citizens of Auradon are stubborn. They won’t just suddenly change their minds, and if this is going to be at all successful, there needs to be more open-mindedness.”

“A public campaign then,” said Mark. “If we can get the Undergrounders on our side – which I think we can – we’ll already have a reasonably sized support base. And maybe some people from Sherwood too. Then we’ll take it public. We’ll have rallies, protests, and speeches, and try to get into the public eye enough to warrant an audience with the king. Like when the magical creatures and heroic sidekicks wanted a say in the King’s Council.”

Dad nodded solemnly and looked at Quinn. “Before we go any farther: are you sure you want to do this, kiddo? It will be difficult and frustrating and there is no certainty of success. Even the Council of Sidekicks had a difficult fight and they were already considered the good guys. Trying to change the public perception will be difficult, especially with the current education system.”

“I know it’ll be hard, Dad,” Quinn said. “But I have to. I can’t just sit around here for the rest of my life knowing I could have tried to give all the others the same opportunity I was given. Those kids all have potential, they just need a chance. Like Jade, she’s twelve and right now, she’s training to become a full member of the Crew. She should be going to school and playing with her friends, but instead, she’s learning how to steal and fight and kill because otherwise she’ll be killed. Jukes can do calculations in their head faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. And Jax,” She paused. “he has leadership skills and such a big heart. Why should I be here if not to fight for all them? They had my back on the Isle and I have to have their backs here.”

Dad smiled proudly and Quinn recognized the look in his eyes from when he used to tell her about his Merry Men days.

“That settles it then,” said Mark. “The next Underground meeting is on Saturday. I’d say you should write down what you want to say, but you’ve gotten pretty good at those rousing speeches.” He grinned and started clearing the table.

“Well, how else was I supposed to lead people into battle, right?” Quinn had said it flippantly, but both Mark and Dad stopped what they were doing and looked at her with concern.

“Quinn,” Dad said, worry in his voice.

“You know what,” Quinn said standing up quickly. “I should probably write something down anyway. You know how nerves can be.” And she hurried upstairs. There were some things she was not ready to share with them yet. And that was for two different reasons. Obviously, she was still grappling with Harper’s death, but also – more threatening – was how much she had enjoyed those battles once she got better at fighting. Quinn found herself missing the adrenaline of a life or death situation, the clash of steel on steel and the odd intimacy of fighting someone. Speaking of which, she also missed Jax, but she knew she had to be realistic there. The fight to get the VKs to Auradon would be long and hard and there was no guarantee that anything would happen between them again. But still, there was a part of her that hoped.


	19. Nineteen | Think of the Children

Quinn slept fitfully most of the time after returning to Auradon. she would often wake up in a cold sweat, gripping the hilt of her dagger that she kept under her pillow out of habit.

One night, someone shook her awake and before she was fully awake, Quinn had pressed the blade to the neck of –

“Woah, Quinn,” Dad said, backing away from her bed. “It’s just me.”

Quinn inhaled sharply and quickly dropped the dagger. It clattered to the wooden floor and she shook her head. “Sorry, Dad,” she mumbled, rubbing her face. “I’m just. still a little on edge.”

He sat down on the edge of her bed. “Quinn,” he said quietly. “Who’s Harper? You were saying his name.”

She looked down at the quilted bedspread. “He. he was one of the kids on the Isle,” she said hesitantly.

“What happened, Quinn?” Dad asked and there was pain in his voice.

When Quinn looked up, her eyes were filling with tears. “I couldn’t save him, Dad.” Her voice broke and she covered her face with her hands. “He was just a kid, a twelve-year-old kid, and I couldn’t save him.”

“Oh, kiddo,” Dad pulled her into a hug. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure you tried your best.”

“It’s just so frustrating!” she burst out, pulling away after a little while. “Those are _kids_! And they have nothing, not even control over their own lives. Even the most basic things like proper doctors – doctors of any kind! I was the ‘surgeon’ in the Crew because I had the most knowledge! It’s ridiculous! I take one First Aid class here and I’m more knowledgeable than the whole island! How is that fair?” The tears were really coming now, and Dad pulled her in again.

“I know, I know,” he said quietly.

Once Quinn had calmed down, and Dad was about to leave, he turned in the doorway. “That’s what drove you back, isn’t it? What happened to Harper?”

Quinn nodded. “It made me realize – well, Jax came up with it first – that nothing could be done from over there.”

“Who is Jax again?”

“Captain Hook’s son,” she said quickly. “He’s the leader of the Crew.”

Dad looked at her for a moment, as though he was trying to read the thoughts she was trying very hard to hide. Quinn thought she saw him smile a little, but in the dim light, it was difficult to tell. “Well, goodnight then, Quinn.”

“Goodnight, Dad,” Quinn said.

“I love you.”

It was such a simple phrase; one they had exchanged so often thoughtlessly. But when Quinn said, “Love you too.” It meant much more than it ever had. She was lucky, so incredibly lucky. And that was what had to keep her going.

•••

Quinn stood in front of the mirror. She was trying to go for a combination of her Isle clothes and her Sherwood clothes – she felt like she needed to represent both sides of herself. And she knew it was dumb; the Undergrounders were not going to judge her by her outfit – but still.

Dad knocked on the doorframe and peeked inside. “Ready to go?”

Quinn turned and smiled as confidently as she could. “Yep.”

They set off on horseback, joined by Mark when they passed his place. He looked her up and down and nodded approvingly. “Good choice.”

Dad was noticeably quiet for most of the ride.

“And you have nothing to worry about, Uncle John,” said Mark. “The Undergrounders are a very welcoming community. Everyone is super chill and non-judgmental.” He looked over at Quinn. “Although, you might want to keep the whole villain kid thing on the down-low.”

“Has the group ever been caught by the authorities?” Dad asked.

“I mean, we don’t commit any crimes,” Mark said. “But they do ignore us as long as we don’t cause trouble.”

The hall was packed in the Underground. They finally found seats just as the meeting was called to order.

A woman in an acid wash denim blazer and floral dress stood at the podium at the front. “Good morning, everybody.” She had a sweet voice. “Welcome all to the monthly open meeting of the Underground. I am Stella, the president of the Undergrounders’ Council.”

Various people came up and gave presentations on proposed actions against hero elitism, the effects of monarchal governments, and status reports on the small ways they were trying to influence public opinion. Quinn was particularly interested in a speech on how the education system, particularly at Auradon Prep, could be improved.

Finally, Stella came back up to the front. “We also have a special presentation from a newcomer in our midst.” She looked around the hall. “Quinn Little?”

Quinn took a deep breath and stood up. She felt the eyes of everyone follow her as she made her way to the front of the room, unfolding her page of notes as she went.

Stella smiled encouragingly as she stepped aside, and Quinn smoothed out her paper on the podium. She looked out at all the unfamiliar faces and found Dad and Mark nodding encouragingly, watching intently.

“Hi,” she said shakily, then cleared her throat. “so, I know that I’m new here, but I figured this was the best place for… well, what I want to say.” She winced a little at her own words but forged on. “Many important concerns have been brought forth here today, and I realize that a lot of this comes down to the culture of Auradon, which has many serious flaws. And the group that I think is bearing a lot of the consequences are the children of villains.” She expected to hear dissent or even a few whispers, but the crowd was mostly quiet, watching her intently. “The children on the Isle of the Lost have been set up to fail, having had no chance of having a good life. They were raised by parents, who for their crimes, were put in exile. These children’s only crime was being born to the wrong people.”

Quinn could feel her heart start to race with her anger and frustration and took a moment to calm herself. “I realize that you have many campaigns running, all with important goals, but I was hoping that I could get some assistance in a campaign to help the children of the Isle. I’ll, uh, be sticking around after the meeting if anyone wants to talk or has questions. Thank you.” Quinn made her way back down as the crowd politely applauded.

“That sounds great,” Stella said. “We would be happy to aid with our resources and expertise on your campaign.”

Quinn did not pay much attention to the rest of the meeting, only half-hearing Mark’s whispered congratulations (“Way to knock ‘em dead”) and half-seeing Dad’s proud smile.

When the meeting ended, multiple people came up to Quinn to talk. Chloe from The Princess’ Wardrobe was first. “I was hoping we’d see you around here again. The jacket looks great by the way.”

The man who had spoken about the education system was also interested. “So were you thinking of some kind of exchange program or more like outreach into the Isle itself?”

“Well, the problem for most of the kids is their parents’ influence, as well as abuse. An exchange program would be more effective.”

“Would you be aiming to change the minds of the public, or the king?” someone else asked.

“Well, preferably both,” Quinn said quickly.

The questions and comments came quickly and people spoke over each other and Quinn found herself taken by surprise by how seriously they were taking this topic.

Mark was better with logistics, so once they had a sizable group crowded around, he said. “We’ll have our first meeting above Chloe’s shop tomorrow at two. Everyone bring questions and suggestions so we can start planning.”

•••

The next few weeks were a flurry of meetings and late nights at Chloe’s place. Dad went back to Sherwood, but Quinn stayed at Mark’s apartment in Auradon City.

The campaign was called ‘ _Think of the Children_ ,’ which Mark had come up with at the first meeting. Soon they had posters up all over the city. Many were taken down, but they kept putting them back up.

Cory, who had worked on the Sidekick campaign, had pulled strings to get them a press conference soon.

“We need to first get some curiosity,” he said. “We want people to see the posters and kinda wonder, then they’ll hear about the press conference and hopefully recognize the name.

•••

Quite a large crowd had turned up for the press conference, and while Quinn wanted to be encouraged by that, she knew that a lot of them did not support the cause. From her seat to the side, she went over her speech and tried to keep her hands from trembling.

Finally, the time came and Quinn walked up to the podium. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Across the narrow sea, Jax was rooting for her, the whole Crew was. And so were Dad and Mark and a bunch more people.

“Hello, everyone,” Quinn said into the microphone. “A lot of you are probably wondering what this is exactly about. I’m sure you’ve seen the posters for our campaign: _Think of the Children_. And that is what this is about: the children.” She looked out over the crowd. They seemed to be with her. For now. “The children of the villains who are living on the Isle.” There were whispers among the crowd. Quinn looked over at Dad, who nodded encouragingly. “They need help. They need our help.” There was audible outrage now but she kept going. “I know how this sounds, but they are children as well. Just like any child born here in Auradon. They are no different. Just because they were born to villains does not mean that they are any less valuable than those born to heroes. Why should they suffer for their parents’ crimes?”

“They’re villains!” someone cried out.

“Traitors!” shouted another.


	20. Twenty | Protest

Dad had never pushed Quinn on what happened while she was gone. Everything she had told him and had been when she was ready to.

But one evening, when they were sitting on the back porch, he saw her pull a dagger from under her clothing and fiddle with it absentmindedly.

“Do you carry that everywhere?” he asked, his tone light but Quinn could hear the concern.

She did carry it everywhere – hidden under her clothes or stuck in her boot. She shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” The truth was that she did not quite feel safe without some kind of weapon on her. She knew it was silly – no one was going to attack her; she did not have to worry about the Innocents or the Queens or even Maleficent over here. And yet... she felt the prickle of someone watching her and immediately prepared herself for a fight. But she did not want to tell Dad about that. He was worried enough about her as it was.

He watched her closely and then looked back out at the dark forest. “When King Richard returned from the Crusades and took back his throne, I thought everything could go back to normal. Robin got his land back, the rest of us got handsome rewards. But we had been living in Sherwood Forest for years by that time, always ready for a fight, knowing that at any given moment, we could be attacked.” He looked back at her. “That fear doesn’t disappear overnight, Quinn. It sticks around, in the back of your mind, in the muscle memory and reflexes that you needed over there. In the old habits –” He gestured at her dagger. “– that you just can’t seem to break.”

Quinn smiled a little and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Does it ever go away? Will I eventually feel completely safe again?”

She did not see it, but there was pain in his eyes at her words. She was too young to be asking questions like that, he thought. But of course, there were younger children than her on the Isle who had experienced the same and more than her. He held Quinn tight to him. “Maybe not entirely, but it shrinks to a manageable size. And reflexes like those aren’t all bad. They can come in handy. Remember that time Alex Dale lost his balance during target practice and nearly shot Mark?”

“Uncle Robin had an arrow notched in a split second and shot the arrow out of the air,” Quinn remembered. “One of the best trick shots I’ve ever seen.”

“He would not have been able to do that had he not been Robin Hood of the Merry Men,” Dad said.

Quinn nodded and they looked out at the forest again.

•••

Resistance to the campaign had picked up after the press conference. Posters were torn down faster than they could put them up. The coverage of their campaign was overwhelmingly negative and Quinn was starting to see how far ‘goodness’ really went.

A week later, they organized a demonstration outside the palace, hoping to get the attention of the king and queen.

When the guards saw them all marching towards the gates, they tensed and looked around in concern. The head guard stepped forward and approached Quinn.

“What are you doing?” he asked gruffly.

“Staging a peaceful protest,” Quinn said calmly. “As is our right.”

“It is your right to bother the king and queen while they work?” he asked.

Quinn frowned. “It is our right to criticize our leaders and voice that criticism through demonstration.”

The guard looked at her, then at the crowd behind her, holding signs. “Don’t cause any trouble,” hie said finally and headed back to his post.

Quinn turned back and smiled. “Let’s go,” she said.

Somebody had brought a megaphone and passed it to Quinn, while someone else pressed a paper into her hand. On it was various chants they had come up with. As they spread out in front of the castle, she led them in the chants, like “All the kids on the Isle / Didn’t get a fair trial” and “If a dream is a wish that your heart makes / Then I dream of King Beast fixing his mistakes.” She felt a thrill when they roared the words back at her.

When she grew tired, she passed the megaphone on to Cory, who took up the chant. She melted into the crowd and shouted with them. The feeling was indescribable. The energy and adrenaline made her heart pound hard in her chest. Her whole being felt warm and full, standing shoulder to shoulder with people who agreed with her, with whom she belonged, fighting for all the kids of the Isle. It was a sense of belonging that reminded her of the Crew, and for a moment, she stilled herself and looked up at the clear blue sky. _This one’s for you, Harper_ , she thought.

After about half an hour, she was pulled back to the front and handed the megaphone again. “Something rousing,” Mark said to her, before pulling away, leaving her alone in the semicircle of space she stood in.

Quinn looked out at the crowd and felt that rush, that righteous anger, build up in her chest. “We are here today to fight for the rights of those who cannot fight for themselves!” The crowd cheered. “The children of the Isle were set up to fail! They were born to villains on an island rife with crime, poverty, and abuse. They did nothing wrong! They are being punished for their parents’ crimes!” They roared their approval.

Mark caught her eye and gestured for her to turn around and pointed at the palace. Quinn turned to face the gilded gates. “King Beast, Queen Belle, I now speak directly to you. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you can!” She took a breath. “How can you sit in your palace and claim to be ruling your people fairly, when children are suffering at your hands? The hardships that the children of the Isle endure are all because of policies you put in place! What did you think was going to happen to them? They had no chance to choose a different path from their parents. You set them up to fail, your majesty! Do you even care?” She was so caught up that she did not realize the guards were approaching until one grabbed her shoulder. Quinn jumped and nearly punched him in the jaw out of instinct.

“I think that’s enough,” said the head guard. “Time to break it up.”

“We’re barely been here an hour,” said Quinn indignantly. “And we have the right to be here.”

“You’re causing a disruption,” he said. “Go home before you cause a scene.”

“Causing a scene is kind of the point,” Quinn snapped.

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn saw a tv camera, with Snow White reporting. The guards were glancing over at her apprehensively as well.

She pulled her arm out of the guard’s grip and shouted into the megaphone, “Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme! Imprisoning children for no crime! Innocent kids doing time!” The crowd, who had started shuffling nervously at the advance of the guards, quickly took up the chant.

“Alright,” grunted the guard, trying to grab at the megaphone, but Quinn danced out of the way, repeating the chant.

The crowd chanted along, but guards were starting to try and break them up. Quinn continued to dodge the guard but knew that she could only avoid them for so long without resorting to violence – and that was the last thing she needed. So she turned back to the palace to say one last thing. “Your whole thing, King Beast, is the power of second chances, so why don’t you –”

The megaphone was ripped from her grasp as a pair of strong arms pulled her arms behind her back. Quinn thought she saw a curtain in one of the high windows move like someone had just let it close. Like someone had been watching. She felt a bit of stubborn satisfaction; somebody had heard them, so maybe the king and queen had too.

“I think that’s enough,” said the voice of the guard behind her.

Quinn struggled a bit. “Am I under arrest, sir? If so, for what crime?”

“Disrupting the peace,” he said. “Unreasonable criticism of the king and encouraging a rebellion against the king.”

“First of all, that second thing isn’t illegal, secondly, I was not encouraging rebellion, I am merely voicing my criticisms of the king’s decisions.”

As they led her away, Quinn saw that a lot of the others looked like they wanted to fight back. A few others were also being arrested. She caught Chloe’s eye and shook her head urgently.

Chloe quickly turned to the crowd. “Hey, remember, we are here to lead a non-violent protest! Let’s try not to give them the wrong idea here!”

Quinn found Mark’s face in the crowd and he looked at her in concern. She could almost hear him saying, “I didn’t mean that rousing.”

Quinn was put in a separate holding cell from the others. It was squeaky clean in there and she laid on the cot, staring at the ceiling. She knew she should be concerned about this, but she was not. The adrenaline from the protest was still pumping through her veins. Maybe getting arrested was not the best image for the movement, but at least they had made a mark. There was no way anyone could not know about them now.

She dropped off to sleep for a little bit and when she woke, the rush was gone. In its absence, doubt crept in. Maybe this was a terrible mistake. Maybe no one would take them seriously now. Maybe righteous anger was not the emotion to go with.

The next morning, Quinn and the few other protesters who were arrested, including Mark, were released. They were not going to be charged with anything but were given strict warnings.

Dad was there to pick them up. “Your father,” he said to Mark. “asked if you’d visit.”

“But we have so much work to do!” Quinn protested. “This is just the beginning.”

“If this is just the beginning, are you going to get yourself charged with something next time?” Dad’s tone was direct and strict, and he flinched when he heard himself. He sighed. “Let’s just go home for the weekend.”

“We’re fighting injustice, Dad,” Quinn said quietly, knowing she sounded like a petulant teenager. After living with next to no adult supervision on the Isle, she had to get used to it again.

“We should probably let everything cool down a bit anyway,” Mark said.

Quinn nodded. “You’re probably right.” Admitting when you’re wrong: another thing not encouraged on the Isle.

Robin and Marian Hood met them at the train station, looking concerned but clearly trying not to look it.

“Hi, Uncle Robin, Aunt Marian,” Quinn said, uncomfortably, but they hugged her, just as they had Mark.

The ride back to Sherwood was rife with polite conversation – avoiding the protest. They talked about Will Scarlet’s new horse, the upcoming wedding of one of the Sherwood kids, and how the apple harvest seemed to be doing very well this year.

Finally, it was Marian who snapped. “Are you two alright?” she asked.

“We’re fine, Mom,” Mark reassured her. “We got roughed up a bit – but no worse for wear.”

“What actually happened?” Robin asked. “They’re making you all sound like crazy rioters on the news, but they’re not showing a lot of footage.”

Quinn thanked all the powers that were that she ended up in Sherwood. “We were peaceful – a bit loud maybe, but nothing more. I think we just questioned the king’s decisions a few too many times and the guards weren’t comfortable with that.”

Robin kept his eyes on the road but nodded understandingly. “I thought that might be the case.”

“But you definitely need to work on your optics,” Marian said. “Because even Sherwood people were hesitant to support you all after yesterday.”

Quinn and Mark shared a look. They had a long road ahead of them.

•••

Jax was starting to realize how helpless he was. It had been weeks since Quinn had left, and he had no idea what was happening. He had started to watch the news broadcasts from Auradon, but there was no sign of her.

“And should we be concerned about this campaign led by a girl from Sherwood?”

Jax’s head shot up and he caught a split-second shot of Quinn in front of a crown before it was cut, replaced by one of King Beast’s anti-evil PSAs that were shot specifically for the Isle and no one took seriously. “What the hell?”

He watched the news even more carefully after that and realized that the news coverage would sometimes, seemingly randomly, be interrupted, usually by the ridiculous PSAs, or by old footage from past broadcasts.

Finally, he decided to consult the little whiz kid of the Isle himself. Carlos was in his usual spot in the back of Jafar’s Bargain Shop, fiddling with wires.

“Hey, kid,” Jax said, sitting down next to him. “I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”

“Don’t you already owe me?” he asked, not looking up from his work.

“No, you owed Quinn, so we’re all even now.”

“What do you need?” He held out a hand. “Can you hand me the needlenose plyers?”

Jax did so. “Can you get the Auradon news broadcasts, not the ones they censor for the Isle?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, probably.” He looked over at Jax. “What’s in it for me?”

“Free passage in Crew territory,” Jax said. “You can come over, stay, whatever, whenever you want.” He had seen in Carlos what the saw in all the kids – the need to get out from under his mother’s thumb. Maybe he could give him that.

“Alright,” Carlos said. “That sounds like a deal.”


	21. Twenty-one | The VK

It became more and more difficult to go out in public. The way people whispered and shot glances her way reminded Quinn of high school in the worst way possible. She had started living with Chloe to be closer to the action and she missed Dad and Sherwood.

Routine set in – a depressing routine that seemed to accomplish nothing. She signed up for audiences with the king and queen every Monday – which were always refused. So, they would demonstrate in front of the palace on Tuesday or Wednesday. If the demonstrators were deemed ‘too loud’ or ‘provoking un-goodness,’ she and a bunch of others may spend the night in a cell. Then they would have a meeting at Chloe’s apartment to discuss progress.

And sometimes there was actual progress: a few new people had joined from outside the Underground and Sherwood, or reports of smaller demonstrations in other regions in Auradon. Once, Prince Aladdin and Princess Jasmine, the leaders of the Lone Keep region, had issued a statement saying that although they did not fully agree with _Think of the Children’s_ message, they acknowledged that people could change. After all, Aladdin, a former thief, was proof of that.

But most of the time, they would leave the meeting less heartened than they had upon entering it.

On the weekends, Quinn would pore over the footage from the Isle crime reports on tv, trying to piece together what was going on over there. She would smile when she saw a familiar face on the grainy footage – even if it was just Fabienne Facilier or Josephine from the Queens. She knew the Crew had disabled the cameras around the docks ages ago – which she had been grateful for in her time there, but now lamented – so she had to rely on the downtown cameras to catch a glimpse of them. And she rarely did.

•••

When she was in Sherwood, Quinn had taken to sitting on the roof of their house to think at night, since it was the closest thing to the Jolly Roger’s crow’s nest. She hugged her knees and looked up at the stars she could see through the leaves of the trees above her. Although she spent her last month or so on the Isle sleeping alone, she missed Jax beside her.

She heard the roof creak slightly and saw Dad climbing up to sit beside her. “I see you haven’t lost your climbing skills,” he said.

Quinn smiled. “I was able to keep them up on the Jolly Roger’s ratlines, as well as the buildings of the city.”

“And how do ships and cities compare to trees?” he asked.

She thought about it for a moment. “The Isle had hardly any green, which I missed. A lot. But the seaside breezes were nice. And there’s nothing quite like a thunderstorm while onboard a ship.”

They sat in silence for a minute or so. “I had a boyfriend over there,” she said finally. She was not sure why she had not told him yet. She and Dad had always been able to talk about everything, including romance. He was the first person she told that she had kissed Winston Scarlett and didn’t want to be with him but didn’t want to tell him because no story she learned about at school had a princess tell a prince that. And he had told her to tell him anyway because those princesses had lived in a very different time.

He looked over at her and said nothing, prompting her to continue.

“His name is Jax, Captain Hook’s son. He was one of the first people I met on the Isle and he helped me even though I told him who my father was.” Dad listened patiently as it all spilled out: the training, the kiss in the alleyway, flings on the Isle, all the way to Seamus’ blackmail, how he supported her through the outbreak of whooping cough and finally helping her to come back. “I love him, Dad.”

He just nodded and enfolded her in a hug. “He must be a very special guy.”

Quinn nodded. “I miss him.”

“Then you have another thing to fight for,” he said. “And I’m sure he’s fighting just as hard to get back to you.”

Her conversation was much less serious and much more, well, Mark-like.

“Are you telling me you lost your v-card to a pirate on a pirate ship?”

“Oh, I regret telling you already.”

They were sparring with quarterstaffs behind his parents’ house.

“Little baby Quinn –”

“Shut up,” she said, but she was laughing.

“– sleeping with – what was his name again?”

“Jax.”

“Please tell me it’s spelled with an X.”

“It is.”

“Wonderfully scandalous.”

Quinn thwacked his leg with her quarterstaff while he was distracted.

Things continued to go badly for the campaign, and Quinn decided to stay a bit longer in Sherwood. One evening, after racking her brain, she tossed her notebook onto the coffee table in frustration. She sighed. “They just don’t care.” She ran her hands through her hair. “And I don’t know how to make them care.”

Mark looked over from where he sat at the kitchen table with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Quinn, you can’t give up now.”

She got up and walked over to the kitchen pantry. “I know,” she said as she dug through the shelves for a granola bar. “It’s just frustrating.” Unwrapping the bar, she went to sit at the table. “I mean, we have been taught our entire lives to be good, to care about people, but then when I suggest we care about the innocent children of villains, everyone goes crazy.”

“We’ve also been taught that we are the good guys and they are the bad guys,” Mark said, closing his laptop. “And that they deserve what they get.”

Quinn nodded as she munched on the granola bar.

“We just need to find a way to show everyone that the kids on the Isle aren’t so different than the kids here. That being a villain or a hero is a choice, not genetics or whatever,” Mark said.

She swallowed and looked at Mark. “I think I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Make them see that being a hero or a villain is a choice,” she said, eyes wide.

“Yeah...?”

Quinn grinned, full and wide, like she hadn’t in a while. “I’m living proof of that.”

“You want to come out as the child of a villain?” Mark said uncertainly.

“Yeah! How did I not think of this before?”

“Because it might have bad consequences,” Mark said. “They might hate you even more.”

“But,” Quinn said, excitedly. “It might show them that who your parents are doesn’t matter.”

Quinn told the rest of her idea over the group chat. Everyone was also growing discouraged and although they were not sure it would work as Quinn did, they were running out of ideas, so they all agreed it was the best way to move forward.

•••

The next day, Quinn stood inside the house, pacing back and forth. She could hear the reporters outside and knew Mark and Dad were watching her from where they sat at the kitchen table. The clock on the wall struck nine and she took a deep breath as she turned to the door.

“You’ve got this,” said Mark.

“Do you want us out there with you?” Dad asked.

Quinn smiled at them. “No, I need to do this by myself.”

“Alright, knock ‘em dead,” Dad said.

She squared her shoulders and stepped out the front door and was met with camera flashes and shouted questions. When she got to the ground, microphones were shoved in her face.

“What is your announcement, Miss Little?” many reporters asked.

Quinn looked around and then focused on the main news network’s camera. “As you all know, my team and I have been campaigning for the care and rights of the children of villains. I would like to point out that despite my many statements to the king and queen, I have had absolutely no response from the throne.” She looked at the camera for a moment, hoping that the king was watching. “So, Your Majesty, I ask again, are you satisfied with the children of villains – your subjects – living the punishments of their parents’ crimes of which they are innocent?” She took another pause and got ready for the thing that she knew would make or break the campaign. “So today I would like to make an announcement.” She took a breath. “I am the child of a villain.”

There was a moment of complete silence in the crowd of reporters and then she was bombarded with questions.

“I do not say this to call attention to myself,” Quinn insisted quickly, speaking over the reporters. “I am putting this out in the open so that I can show the country that being a villain or being a hero is a choice. People are not good or evil because of their parents, they are good or evil through the choices that they themselves make.”

More questions came from the reporters:

“Which villain?”

“When did Little John adopt you?”

“Is this why you started your campaign?”

The reporters started to crowd her and Quinn could feel her fight or flight reflexes start to kick in. She took a breath and smiled at the reporters. “I thank you for your time, um, that’s all I have to say for today.” She scrambled up and into the house as quickly as she could.

  * ••



Jax had about had enough of Auradonian news. Every mention of Quinn was accompanied by vague gestures at her upbringing and handwringing about culture.

So when she told the country about her parentage, he was not surprised about the fallout. They dissected her school record and social media, looking for ‘clues’ about her heritage that they had missed. They interviewed her classmates, most of whom seemed very eager to talk about how _odd_ she had been – her and the Sherwood kids.

The most daring commentators were beginning to question the goodness of the Merry Men. After giving one interview, Robin Hood seemed to catch wind of their intentions to smear him and gave no more statements. Little John had avoided the press from the beginning, but they hounded both him and Quinn until several outbursts from him were painted as “violent” and “coarse” in the press.

A headline: “Woman calls guards on Quinn Little, claimed she ‘felt threatened’ by presence”

A picture: Quinn, eyes tired and mouth pinched tight, tries to avoid cameras as she heads back to Sherwood after a protest at the royal palace. There is a prominent bruise on her arm where a guard grabbed her.

Watching the news began to take more and more of Jax’s time. He did not want to tell anybody else about how badly the campaign was going. Part of the reason they helped Quinn was the promise she would help them get away from their parents.

Jade would often find him late at night, slumped on the couch in front of the TV, face worried even in sleep.

“You know obsessing over Quinn’s campaign won’t help her,” she said one morning.

Jax rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I know, but there’s not much else I can do.”

“Jax.” Jade sat across from him. “She’s out there fighting for us, so you need to fight too. For the Crew and everyone else. We can make life better here while she’s working to make it even better for the future.”

He smiled softly. “You’re right, Jade, as always.” He sighed and looked over at the tv, muted by Jade. Yet another tv commentator yammered on as footage of Quinn yelling into a megaphone in front of the palace played. “We’ll do our part while she does hers. We gotta prepare everyone for Auradon.”


	22. Twenty-two | Hopelessness

On her way to Mark’s apartment one evening, Quinn popped into the grocery store across from the train station. Normally she tried to shop at the Underground, both to support the local businesses and to avoid all the stares, but it was out of her way.

She turned her head away from the cashiers as she walked by, hoping they would not recognize her. As she walked down the aisle, she saw a familiar figure – Fairy Godmother. Quinn tried to turn quickly, but she had been seen.

“Hello, Miss Little,” she said, kindly but not exactly warmly.

“Fairy Godmother!” Quinn turned to her, pasting on a smile. “How are you?”

“I am quite well, thank you. How are you?”

“I’m...” Dealing with hatred and mistrust from everyone? Being smeared almost daily on the news? “I’m alright.”

“I hope your father is well.”

“He is.”

“And how his he. dealing with everything?” she asked.

Quinn searched for the meaning behind her words. “He is,” she said cautiously. “very supportive of me, something I seem to be missing from most people these days.” She noticed some movement at one of the cash registers and saw a cashier rush off to the back room.

“Well, can you really blame them, Quinn?” Her eyes were sympathetic, but not sympathetic for her.

“It has certainly been very eye-opening, seeing the other side of Auradon, the side you all fight so hard to hide,” Quinn said quietly.

Fairy Godmother’s mouth opened, but before she could say anything, a middle-aged man in a store uniform rushed over to them. The cashier who had run to the back room was a few steps behind him, eyes wide.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave the store,” he said in a voice trying for authority but failing to hide his fear. “We don’t serve villains here.”

Quinn sighed and turned to Fairy Godmother. “You know,” she said. “you’re lucky you’re wrong about villain kids always ultimately becoming their parents because then you’d all be dead by now.”

“Did you threaten Fairy Godmother?” Mark asked when Quinn stepped inside his apartment half an hour later.

“What?”

Mark pointed at the TV, showing a shaken-looking Fairy Godmother being interviewed by Snow White right outside of the grocery store. The sound was muted but she could guess how this would be spun against her.

“I didn’t actually threaten her,” Quinn huffed, sinking into the couch.

“Didn’t actu– What did you say?”

“I said that she was lucky she was wrong about villain kids becoming like their parents because otherwise.” Quinn hesitated. “All of you would be dead.”

“What?” Mark exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?”

“I know, I shouldn’t have said it, it was dumb.”

“Yeah, it was.” Mark stood up and began pacing. “The whole reason you told everyone you were a VK was to show that VKs weren’t guaranteed to become their parents.”

“I know,” Quinn said.

“This is going to be a nightmare for our image.”

“I know.” Quinn’s voice grew louder.

“Do you have any idea how easily they can use this against you?”

“I know!” Quinn shouted, standing up.

Mark stopped his pacing and looked at her.

Quinn’s bottom lip quivered. “I know, okay. I know how bad this looks. The news has been running stories about me for weeks. Yesterday, they got footage of me practising quarterstaff with Dad, implying that I’m _violent_ , even though last year’s Sherwood quarterstaff champion was Rowan Tinker! They dug up my school records, showing how many times I got detention and skipped class. They had interviews with all the kids from Auradon Prep about how I was a loner and didn’t fit with the way hero kids are supposed to act.” Quinn slumped down onto the couch again. “I was angry today because the manager of that store ordered me to leave, saying he doesn’t serve villains. And Fairy Godmother was right there, the personification of all the performative goodness in this country.”

Mark sat down across from her. “I’m sorry. You’re taking the brunt of the public’s reaction and that’s not fair.”

“When as any of this been fair?” Quinn could feel the knot of hopelessness in her stomach again, like the lump in her throat that she was trying to ignore. “I’m so tired, Mark,” she said quietly. “If nothing happens soon, I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.”

“Come on, Quinn.” Mark grabbed her hands. “We’ve just got to keep pushing. They’ll see the light eventually.”

Eventually. The word hung in the air, tantalizing. Taunting. It held no schedule, no timetable, just the guarantee of sometime in the future. Who knew how long it would take?

•••

The weeks slogged on and nothing changed. They held silent vigils, more protests. Quinn was starting to get to know the holding cells quite well. She was never charged with anything – what could they charge her with? – just kept her there overnight to cool down. They sent petitions and letters to the king and queen and all the other regional leaders but never received an answer.

The royal family continued their public appearances as though everything was the same. They christened a ship, held a fundraiser ball for the local hospital, and sent their son off on his first solo royal visit. It was infuriating.

Quinn found herself spending more and more of her free days in Sherwood, only heading to the city for demonstrations. At least in Sherwood, she did not get so many stares because most of Sherwood supported them.

She and Dad had stopped talking about the campaign at home aside from scheduling details. They spent her free time practising archery and quarterstaff or just spending time in the trees.

•••

“I don’t know what to do, Robin,” Little John said one day as he and Robin sipped tea at the Sherwood café. “She’s retreating within herself. I know she’s having a hard time with everything, but she refuses to talk about it.”

“It can’t be easy when the whole country thinks she’s evil,” Robin said with a sigh.

Little John shook his head. “It’s absurd. How could the country have fallen this far in a little over a decade?”

“Separation can change a culture,” Robin said. “It’s been so long since we have faced a villain, we’ve forgotten what true villainy is. It’s not aesthetics or wardrobe, it’s wanting to harm people. That seems to have slipped people’s minds.”

“We can’t just blame everyone else though,” Little John said thoughtfully. “It’s on all of us for not keeping the government in check. We all became complacent after the final battle, as though all bad things were confined to the Isle.”

Robin nodded.

“But this doesn’t help Quinn or her movement. I’m afraid if it goes on like this, she’s going to burn herself out.”

“If she’s not talking to you, and Mark has told me she’s not talking to him, who might she talk to?”

•••

“Do you have any way of contacting your friends on the Isle?” Dad asked that evening.

Quinn looked up from her book in surprise. “Why?”

“I thought you’d probably miss them.” He sat down in his chair by the fire. “They might be able to encourage you a bit.”

She smiled a little. The thought of speaking with Jax or Jukes or Sheela would be very uplifting. Even hearing Blake’s voice would be nice. “I don’t think I could,” she sighed. “The only way I was even able to contact Mark to help get me back was through this little whiz kid on the Isle. And even with his tech, it was only a one-way signal.” She closed her book. “And they’ve probably made that harder as well, afraid I’ll try to instigate a rebellion or whatever.”

But the conversation got her thinking, so when Dad went off to bed, Quinn clambered up onto the roof. Looking up at the stars, she imagined she and Jax were stargazing from the rigging of the Jolly Roger.

“Hey, Jax,” she said quietly.

 _You’re looking a little down, princess_ , she could almost hear him say.

“Well, I’ve had a rough couple of months,” she said with a wry smile.

 _Nothing’s quite the same without me, huh?_ She could imagine his expression going more serious, his voice more sincere. _What’s wrong?_

“I don’t know what to do. Nobody cares and I’ve tried all that I could to make them. And now everyone knows I’m a VK and dislike me even more than before and... I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Quinn fought with the lump in her throat again.

 _Quinn, you are one of the most capable, resilient people I know. You caught my eye the first day we met and my faith in you has never wavered. You will make the right decision about this_.

Quinn thought about all she had learned on the Isle. The person she had become. Some parts she wished had not come to be: her over-vigilance, her hunger for adrenaline; but other parts were good. Surely something could help her now.

Suddenly, Blake’s voice echoed in her memory, from training.

“Be aware of your surroundings at all times. You must always make decisions off of what you know is around you. Not what you wish it was, or how you want it to be. What it is.”

The words, harsh but true, felt like a punch to the gut. As much as she hated it, he was right. All of the evidence showed that Auradon just was not ready. They did not have the support of the public and it did not look like that was going to change anytime soon.

Maybe in the future, the time would come. Eventually.

•••

“Are you sure?” Mark asked.

The core group was meeting above Chloe’s shop. Everyone looked tired when they came in, and not particularly surprised at Quinn’s words.

“I’m just saying what I think,” Quinn said. “I know it’s not just my decision to make. It’s as much my campaign as it is everybody’s in this room. But I believe that now… now is not the time for this.”

Chloe looked around at the discouraged faces around the table. “I understand, but like Mark said, are you sure about this? Nobody has suffered as much as you for this. Do you want to give it up?”

“This isn’t me giving up permanently. I believe there will be a time for our message. And when that time comes, I’ll be ready to fight again. Maybe, now, we’ve planted seeds in people’s minds.”

Around the table, everyone nodded their agreement and the meeting became their last.

Later, at the Underground bar, Chloe raised her drink. “To the future,” she said.

“To the future,” Mark and Quinn echoed.


	23. Twenty-three | Four Years Later

The TV was on in the background as Quinn prepared lunch. It had been four years since the campaign had ended. Not much had changed. There had not even been an official statement from the king on the matter.

“Prince Ben made a ground-breaking announcement today,” Snow White said from the TV.

“Is he going to wear something other than blue and yellow for once in his life?” she muttered, digging through the fridge for the jam.

“I have decided that as my first decision,” The prince’s voice was a little nervous, but firm. “to allow four children from the Isle” Quinn’s head snapped up and she rushed to the couch. “to come to Auradon for a trial period.”

Quinn stared at the screen as reporters bombarded the young man with questions.

“Dad!” she called, eyes riveted to the screen. “You won’t believe this!”

Dad stepped inside as Prince Ben continued. “I have decided on four children who need our help the most: the children of Maleficent, the Evil Queen, Jafar, and Cruella de Vil.”

There were audible gasps for the reporters. Maleficent was widely considered the worst of all the villains.

“That kid has guts,” said Dad, sitting on the couch beside her.

“What does this mean for the other children of villains on the Isle?” one reporter asked.

“As I said, this is a trial period,” said Prince Ben. “But if it goes well, I am open to allowing more to come to Auradon. Not all at the same time, of course. I know that this is going to make things different around here, but I hope that we can all give these kids a second chance.” He bade the reporters a good day and the screen went back to Snow White, who looked a little paler than usual.

Dad and Quinn stared at each other, a hopeful smile spreading over Quinn’s face.

“This is unbelievable!” Quinn exclaimed. “Do you think the campaign had something to do with this?”

“Absolutely,” Dad said. “Where else would he have gotten the idea?”

Quinn looked back at the television, where they were now displaying the mug shots of the four villains whose children would soon be in Auradon.

“Let’s just hope those kids behave themselves,” she said.

•••

In the years since the fateful press conference and the fallout from it, Quinn had tried to retreat from the public eye. She spent nearly all of her time either in Sherwood or the Underground, passing through Auradon City with eyes on the cobbled streets, avoiding the gaze of anyone around her. People still recognized her, but fortunately mostly avoided her.

She had shut down all of her social media and lived reasonably contentedly with her old friends from Sherwood – many of whom had moved to the Underground – and new friends from the Underground. She helped Chloe run the shop and helped behind the scenes with Undergrounder campaigns, knowing that her association with any cause would harm it.

Occasionally she still watched the footage from the Isle, but less and less. It began to just make her sad, seeing them all living their lives in a harmful environment that she was unable to save them from.

•••

There had been quite a lot of drama at the coronation, but in the end, the VKs had behaved admirably, defeating Maleficent and saving everybody. While everyone had been frozen during the confrontation, the cameras kept rolling. Quinn watched it back many times and could help but tear up every time at their bravery. And, true to his word, the newly coronated King Ben had announced that he was working on a plan for the other children of the Isle. Quinn hoped he knew what he was doing and that his advisors would have their best interests at heart.

One afternoon, after she had closed the shop early, Quinn decided to request an audience with the king. She knew probably would not get to speak with him, but she had to try. She at least had more chance with him than she had with his father.

To her surprise, an hour later Quinn found herself standing at the door of a conference room in the palace. A guard opened the door and she stepped into the room.

King Ben and Mal, his girlfriend, stood at the far end of the room, speaking in low tones. They looked up when they head the door. Mal had grown up since Quinn last saw her, but she still had the look of a VK – on guard, vigilant.

King Ben strode over. “It is so good to meet you, Miss Little,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Thank you so much for hearing me, Your Majesty,” Quinn said, shaking his hand.

“Please call me Ben,” he said and then turned to the purple-haired teenage girl beside him. “And this is Mal.”

Quinn smiled. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard of you.” She shook Mal’s hand. “You are a brave young woman.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking at Quinn curiously.

They sat down and Mal said, “I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?”

Quinn froze for a moment but quickly recovered. “I headed up a campaign for villain kids a few years ago.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“It did not have the greatest reception.”

“I can imagine,” said Mal.

“And I apologize for my parents’ lack of response to your campaign,” King Ben said quickly. “While I respect them, they are old-fashioned.”

“Thank you,” Quinn said. “That means a lot.”

“So, what did you want to discuss with me?” he asked.

Taking a breath, Quinn went over the points in her head. “So, I realize that you are focusing on the younger children of villains, which I understand. They are in the most need of help. However, I would like to suggest a program for the adult children of villains, like me.”

Mal’s eyes widened. “You’re a VK?”

Quinn nodded. “My biological father was Captain Hook’s first mate, Mr. Starkey, but I was raised here in Auradon.”

“A lot of the news coverage of you and your campaign was blocked on the Isle,” Ben added as an explanation.

“Anyway,” Quinn said, getting back to her main point. “I realize that the program will look very different, but I am happy to offer any assistance. I still have some resources and outlets and people who supported my cause.”

Ben nodded and turned to Mal. They exchanged a few micro-expressions and the turned back to Quinn.

“I’ll have to discuss it with my council,” he said. “But I think you can start reaching out to contacts and supporters now. I want you to be one of the people heading up the committee.”

•••

With the support of the crown, starting up the campaign was easier. Since the four VKs’ defeat of Maleficent and subsequent saving of Ben had been less than six months ago, the public was much more amicable to the idea of letting VKs come to Auradon.

Quinn worked in the background for the first while, agreeing that Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos should be the faces of the revitalized organization. So, she worked logistics, drafting plans on how they would actually get the kids to Auradon – how they could sign up, how they could prevent their parents’ interference, etc. All of the original members of _Think of the Children_ showed up to help, plus so many more. They also drafted proposals to be sent to government ministries – especially the Ministry of Education – so that more of Auradon could change as well.

The first day she worked closely with the four VKs, Carlos pulled her aside. “Thank you for helping me and Jay that one time,” he said earnestly. He had grown up from that little blond kid she had met on the Isle – for one he was taller than her – but he had kept his sweet earnestness.

Quinn smiled. “I think you more than paid me back for that.”

“So this is why you came back?” he asked, gesturing around at the room full of people working hard. “To get all of us to Auradon.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He smiled. “Thanks.

Mal had also spoken to her briefly, after realizing who she was. “The Crew really changed after the whooping cough died down – after you left, I guess. They still had to fight, obviously, but they opened their doors to any kid who didn’t want to stay at home. They helped with schoolwork and taught first aid and everything.”

Quinn smiled. “I know that’s what Jax wanted the Crew to be. I’m glad he could make it happen.” She had wanted to ask about him, about all of them. How they were doing, what they were like. She wanted to hear everything about Jukes, how tall Jade was now, how Hugo was doing, what Blake was like. She had not quite realized how much she had missed everybody until she spoke with VKs who had known them. Instead, she said, “I’m sorry for trying to kidnap you.”

She shrugged. “We all did what we had to do over there. Don’t worry about it.” Mal was about to turn away but then looked back. “People still wonder what happened to you. A lot of people think you died and that’s why Jax changed the Crew.” She looked at her curiously. “You two were a fling, weren’t you?”

And Quinn had to stop herself from asking if he was seeing anyone. “Yeah.”

With every day that crept closer to a final draft of a plan, Quinn imagined seeing everyone again. She hoped they would all sign up, and not just the Crew; every VK needed a safe place, from the stifled kids from the Innocents and the Socialites to the girls from the Queens, angry at their bigoted parents and taking it out on the world, to every other kid who just needed to be away from the destructive presence of their parents.

•••

Finally, a plan was approved and the four VKs were dispatched to the Isle to spread the word. Quinn had wanted desperately to join them, but no one was supposed to know she had gone to the Isle, so she stayed behind.

And soon it was the night before the ship carrying all the VKs from the first wave of signups to Auradon would arrive, and Mark had invited her over to his apartment since she would not be getting any sleep anyway. They made tea and sat on the balcony overlooking the street.

“How likely do you think it is that Jax and I will still, you know, click?” Quinn asked finally, voicing the question that had been plaguing her. She was not worried about seeing Jukes or Nia or Nabil or Hugo or Sheela or any of the others.

“You guys went through a lot together,” Mark said. “There’ll probably still be some kind of affinity there, whether or not you pick up where you left off.” He looked over at her. “Is that all you’re worried about?”

“I know it’s super cheesy or whatever,” Quinn said. “But everything else has been handled and discussed. There wasn’t exactly a ‘Jax and Quinn’s relationship’ subcategory in the official plan.” She leaned back on the couch. “It’s been five years since we last saw each other. I was eighteen; we were kids.” When she looked over at him, she saw he was smiling. “What?”

“I never thought I’d see you, Quinn Little, who rolled her eyes and pretended to gag at me during the romantic parts of school plays, moping on the couch, wondering if a boy likes her.”

Quinn groaned and hit him with a pillow. “I am not moping. I just… I’ve missed him and…”

His smile widened. “You’ve _missed_ him,” he said in an exaggerated tone. “Your high school sweetheart, your first time, your soul–”

“You’re not being very helpful or supportive.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” he said holding up his hands and trying to stifle his smile. “I think you should try to stop thinking about it since that won’t make a difference either way. I’m sure when you see him tomorrow, you’ll just... know, you know?”

•••

The day finally came. They had decided to do it in the summer, right after school let out, so the dorms at Auradon Prep would be empty. After a month or so of medical checkups and some much-needed counselling, the underage VKs would be sent to host families. A lot of VKs would be going to Sherwood and the Underground, the latter of which had nearly entirely opened up with the new high approval of the _Think of the Children_ organization.

An empty apartment complex in the Underground had been put forward – by a unanimous vote of the Underground Council – to house the adult VKs. Quinn already knew Jax’s future address: apartment 5D.

Everything was ready. Quinn donned her old leather jacket and took a breath in the front of the mirror. She did not feel quite as giddy as she had expected, but that owed mostly to her not being able to entirely believe this was happening.

Chloe drove her, Mark, and a few others down to the shipyard. As they pulled up, Quinn saw that a crowd had gathered and for a moment her heart sank. But then she saw the ‘Welcome Home’ signs and realized that maybe things had really begun to change for the better in Auradon.

She had avoided crowds since restarted the campaign and although she knew their approval rating, numbers did not quite do what seeing the crowd of happy, welcoming Auradonians did to her.

Kids began to pour off the ship, chattering excitedly. Quinn searched the faces, recognizing some, but hardly any of the younger ones, reminding her once again of how long it had been.

In the back of her mind, she knew it would look odd to greet anyone with familiarity, but when Sheela came out of nowhere for a hug, she could hardly refuse her. Most of the Crew came through together and Quinn greeted them all, promising to catch up after they had settled in.

Jukes grinned at her after they had hugged. “Gotta say, I was doubtful, but you pulled it off.” They were nearly pulled along by the crowd. “Let’s get a drink later, and you can tell me all about it.”

Jade came by, taller than Quinn now, and grasped her hand tightly. “Thank you,” she said earnestly.

And there he was: confident swagger, red leather jacket, and all. Jade followed her gaze and grinned. “He was uncharacteristically quiet on the way. I think he was nervous.”

Jax looked at Quinn, eyes filled with so much happiness and love and pride, she thought that if she kicked the bucket right now, she would die a happy woman.

“I wasn’t nervous,” he said, with exaggerated cockiness. “I was rehearsing a very long, _very_ romantic speech.”

Quinn smiled and rushed at him, jumping into a hug that nearly knocked him over. Jax held her tight as Quinn inhaled deeply, smiling as Jax did the same, and they relaxed into each other’s arms. He smelled like leather, sea spray, and _him_ , like before.

“You did it,” he whispered into her hair, with a tone that said he never doubted her for a second.

“I missed you,” Quinn breathed.

He pulled back, looking in her eyes like they were the most important things in the world. “Of course, you did, who wouldn’t?”

Quinn laughed, eyes filling a little with happy tears. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“I hope I did change a bit,” he said earnestly. “We tried to do etiquette and politeness lessons to prepare.” He grinned. “I missed you too.”

And Quinn did not think about whether anyone could see them, or what they would think, she just leaned in and kissed him. Jax pulled her close and Quinn looped her arms around his neck. Quinn kissed him with all the love she realized she had for him after leaving, and all the love that had flooded in when she saw his face again. Jax held her like he never wanted to let go, and Quinn loved him all the more for it.

For a moment, time stood still, a snapshot that Quinn wanted to remember. Kissing like the end of a movie in a crowd of friends and acquaintances who now had a shot at a better life. After years of hard work and disappointments, here they were, together again.

Perhaps that was the one thing fairytales got right, Quinn mused absently; if you work hard enough for the right thing, you will eventually succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🤩🤩🤩 I'm so happy that I finally finished this fic! I've been working on it on and off for the last 4-ish years and it's the longest story I've ever written.
> 
> Thanks for reading, & I'll see you around! 💜


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